


Lisse Comme le Miel

by MADOSQUAD



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M, also its finally set in england who tf am i, ciel is a college drop out, daddy kink bc who would i be if it wasnt there, everyone is legal duh, sebastian is a erotic photography teacher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 83,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MADOSQUAD/pseuds/MADOSQUAD
Summary: Ciel Phantomhive's life is falling apart. He's lost all his friends, dropped out of college, doesn't have a job. He struggles to pay rent by doing odd jobs here and there - which no one seems to need done anymore. He's just about to lose all hope, until he meets Sebastian Michaelis one night, a photography teacher at the local community center. He offers Ciel a job - and even if it's a little bizarre, money is money, right?





	1. if i believe you

**Author's Note:**

> yeah........i'm starting something new. i'm not giving up on baby blue - i just feel a little stuck in a rut right now? i just need something new, something fresh. hope you all understand.
> 
> hope you're all well.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Whiskey settles warm in Ciel Phantomhive’s stomach, heating his body from the inside out. He’s twenty-three, much too small for his age at five-foot-two, with big blue eyes and oil-slick dark hair that is in bad need of a trim. He pulls his sleeves down past his fingertips, raising the old fashioned to his wind chapped lips again, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

This is the first time in nearly two weeks that he’s gone out of the house. The weather in London has been unkind lately, icy cold winds and potentially endless rain. No one seems to be hiring anymore; no one needs odd jobs done, no one needs their dogs walked or kids watched after. Every day for the past month has been another day in seclusion, wondering if he’ll be evicted, left on the street to die.

Ciel’s teeth come together with an audible clack. He straightens up in his seat, fingertips going numb with warmth. He’d been rooting around in his room, looking for anything to sell on sketchy, secondhand websites, when he found the money. A handful of bills had been tucked away in the pages of _A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius._ He’d only gotten to the second chapter.

In university, Ciel was smart, a golden child. No one could touch him: top grades, top of his class, top of the food chain. He had loved literature – loved Dostoevsky and Tolstoy, didn’t care for Joyce or Greene, liked Plato, liked Cummings and Neruda. He liked words in general, was never any good at art or science or, God help him, maths. His second year of uni, however, something inside him changed.

He didn’t go out. He constantly ignored Alois’ and Lizzie’s phone calls, and when he did answer, he’d snap something out that would piss Alois off or make Lizzie cry. He hated them, hated school, and most of all, hated himself.

He heaves out a little sigh, sets down his glass and taps his blunt nails against its side, motioning for another one.

The bartender that moves towards him is a young man named Bard, tall and lean, with blond hair and a cockney accent. He has the stump of a cigarette perched behind his ear and a series of scars across his hands and knuckles. “Doin’ all right?” he asks, adding a dash of bitters into the glass. “You haven’t said much since you showed up.”

“The weather has me down,” Ciel murmurs, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth slightly. He shakes his head minutely, inhaling quietly. “I just wanted to get out of the house, get a drink.” He sighs again, rubbing his fingertips at his scalp, murmuring _thank you_ when Bard slides him the glass. Ciel sips at it slowly, and then turns his head when the bar’s door creaks open, allowing a gust of cold air and two red-cheeked women to come in, holding hands and quietly giggling.

Bard moves away from Ciel and towards them when they take a seat, a grin on his face. “Hello, ladies!” he greets them, leaning over the bar for a kiss on the cheek from them both. One of the women is short and chubby, with curly, dark brown hair. She’s dressed a bit inappropriately for the weather, wearing a thin sweater and a skirt that seems to be made completely out of lace, with only tights beneath it. The other is tall and willowy, with long, red hair, and an entirely red ensemble that seems a bit more suited for the cold. “Can I get you two the usual?”

The red-haired woman flaps a hand loosely at Bard, letting out a shriek of a laugh. “Please, dear! Also, we’ve managed to coax Sebastian into coming out tonight, so make sure you’re on your best behavior – he’s not in the best of moods today.”

Bard lifts his eyebrows in place of rolling his eyes, cheeks puffed out. “When is he not? What’s happened this time?”

“Apparently,” the woman in red begins, voice slightly hushed, “one of his models walked out on him this morning. Poor thing had some sort of meltdown, or so I heard.” She picks up the glass that Bard had pushed in front of her, fingers long and deft. “Is that all he said, Nina?”

The woman beside her, whom Ciel assumes is Nina, takes a deep breath in through her nose, swirling around the dark contents of her own glass. “No, Grell. Angela left because she didn’t like Sebastian’s… directing. She felt as if he was too stern, too forceful with her, so she took all her things, and left. In the middle of the shoot.” She sighs loudly, shoulders drooping. “Needless to say, Sebastian isn’t happy, but we’ve convinced him to join us, so he should be here in a little while.”

Grell, the red woman, breathes loudly through her nose. “Anyway, Sebastian and I have an early morning tomorrow – we’re going to do a little scouting down by Kings, see if anyone wants to model.”

Ciel’s head perks up at the mention of his old university, body angled just so, trying to get a better listen. He’s nosy; he can’t help it. As a child, he’d learned of his parents’ death by pressing his ear against the sitting room door, listening to his aunt speak brokenly over the phone to distant relatives, her voice tight and chipped, like a piece of china.

“I never liked Angela, anyway,” says Grell, brows lifted. “I mean, what Sebastian does with the models is wonderful – but she wasn’t a very nice person, in general. Her boyfriend is a little wonky as well.” She lets out a small sigh, fingers laced beneath her chin. “Bard, do you have anyone in mind? Anyone we could ask to take her place?”

Bard’s brows draw together, his head tilting backwards. “Me? You know I only have like, five friends, and you guys are two of them.”

Nina lets out a little shriek of laughter, rocking back on the barstool. “Name the other three!” she giggles, bouncing in her seat like a child.

Bard’s cheeks redden. “Sebastian, Finny, and Mey-rin.”

“Mey-rin doesn’t count,” Grell deadpans as Nina pretends to gag, “she’s your wife; that means you actually only have four friends, you pathetic knob.” She chuckles to herself, taking a sip of whatever’s in her glass, and allows bright green eyes to roam around at the bar’s scarce patrons, widening when they land on Ciel. “Well, hello,” she murmurs, voice edging on a purr. “Bard, I wasn’t aware you served minors,” she says, eyes not leaving Ciel’s face.

Ciel’s brows draw together in confusion and frustration. “I’m not a minor,” he responds, voice quiet, but coming off a little bit more rude than he had intended. “I’m twenty-three.”

Grell’s eyes flash, evergreen in the bar’s dim lighting. “So, you’re legal, then,” she says, straightening up. “Have you ever considered being a model? I mean, you’re definitely not tall enough, but you have that gaunt, pale thing going for you – you’re like a, a, what is it called?” She turns to her friend, brows drawn. “Nina, what is that thing called? It’s like a spectral being – a whip? A whet? _The Wind in the Willows?_ ”

“A wraith?” Nina offers, and judging by the way that Grell snaps her fingers together, she’s right.

“That’s it! A wraith! You’re like a wraith; you’re eerily pretty.”

Ciel has been called many things – most of them cruel, unkind words that have stuck with him for years – but _eerily pretty_ is not one of them. His mouth draws into a kind of half smile, twitching at the corners as his brows knit. “Eerily pretty?” he repeats, scooting a little bit closer towards her in his seat.

She motions up and down with her hand, fingers loose. “You know – you’ve got the pale skin, the little bones, the big blue eyes, the dark hair. You’ve got that pretty, sick model look. I’m sure you’re quite healthy, however. Your cheeks have a good color to them.”

His fingers creep up to his face, sinking into the kitten soft flesh of his skin, saliva flooding his mouth. He swallows hard. “I used to go to Kings,” Ciel says quietly, reaching nervously for his near empty glass. Most of the ice in it has melted. “I studied English lit, dropped out my second year.” His teeth drag against his bottom lip.

“Little eavesdropper,” Grell murmurs as Nina drops her head against the bar top. “I think that Sebastian would like you – I can just imagine how pretty he could make you look.” She chuckles throatily, extends her left hand. “I’m Grell, and this is my girlfriend, Nina.”

Nina lifts her head, eyes slowly swirling in her sockets. “’M Nina,” she slurs – Ciel hadn’t seen her have more than one drink; frankly, he’s impressed.

“I’m Ciel Phantomhive,” he replies, reaching over to take her hand. It’s smooth and cool, much bigger than his own. Heat draws into his face when he retracts his hand. “So… modeling? Like, professional modeling?”

Grell lets out a shrieking little laugh, a noise that jumpstarts Ciel’s heart. “No, sweetheart – Sebastian is a photography teacher, at the community center down by Kings. You would be modeling for him, for his website. He specializes in real life photography, trying to capture the raw emotions that humans create when put under… certain situations.” Her red lips part into a smile. “If you’re interested, he’ll be here in a little while; I think it’d be in your best interest to stick around.”

“My best interest?” Ciel asks, sitting up a little bit straighter, eyes narrowing. “What do you know about my best interest?”

“I’m a very good reader of people, little one, and once upon a time, I was just like you: university dropout, no friends, no family, no hobbies or interests.” Her brows lift a little when Ciel inhales audibly, fingers slick with the condensation from his glass. “Hit on the nail on the head, did I? Anyway, I was horribly depressed – until an old friend of mine called me, asked me to come out with her to an art gallery in someone’s storage room.”

Bard leans against the bar, a small smile on his face. “I remember that. That’s the first night that Mey-rin and me met you guys. He’s come really far, hasn’t he?”

“He has,” Grell says, lips tugging at the corners into a fond smile. “I started working for Sebastian. I scouted out models for his work, spoke to colleges and studios and other places, seeing if I could get him work – eventually, he was hired by the community center to teach photography classes. He has a website for his work, strictly, and is sometimes hired for weddings and other outings.”

Ciel tilts his head slightly to the left, eyeing her. “Are his models paid for their time? I mean – how often does he photograph them?”

Grell opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off by a deep, rumbling voice, accompanied by a cold gust of wind.

“Are you discussing business without me present?”

All eyes in the bar turn towards the voice, and Ciel nearly passes out right then and there. He’s seen a lot of pretty men in his life, but this man – this God among men – takes the cake. He can’t be any older than 35, with broad shoulders, long legs and arms, a cool, high forehead, lofty cheekbones, jet black hair that curls around his ears and upwards at the nape of his neck. _This_ must be Sebastian.

Ciel can’t tear his eyes away, even when Grell giggles loudly, smacking Nina hard on the back with an open palm, earning a groan from the inebriated woman. “Of course not,” she bluffs, cheeks tinging red, “what kind of a business partner would I be if I discussed business without the main part of business here?” She shakes her head, eyes dropping. “Wait, what?”

The man crosses the room and takes a seat at the bar, orders two shots of whiskey. He’s dressed in all black, a turtleneck peeking out from beneath his pea coat, long legs stuffed into jeans that are cuffed neatly at the ankle, feet tucked into stylish boots.

“What’d she tell you, kid?”

His voice startles Ciel, hand trembling violently against his empty glass. “I’m sorry?” he asks, voice small and timid, eyes wide. If this had been twenty year old Ciel, still snarky and full of life and ambition, he'd probably already be drunk and dry-humping this stranger. Instead, he is meek nowadays, nervous about social interactions.

"What did Madame Bigmouth tell you? I heard you two talking - I'm just curious as to what she told you." He tips his head back to take one shot, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "Well, come on, we don't have all night," he says when Ciel doesn't respond.

"Leave him alone, Sebastian," Grell chastises, smacking him across the back of the head with her fingertips, a sound that makes Ciel flinch. "I told him that he'd do well as a model for you - his name is Ciel, he's twenty-three, and he used to go to Kings." She chews on her bottom lip. "It's just a suggestion. I know you'll do whatever pleases you, anyway."

Sebastian sniffs out a little laugh, turning on his stool to look at Ciel. His eyes are dark - Ciel can't decide whether they're black or brown - and they flit up and down Ciel's body, roaming slowly over bony ankles and thin wrists, over the spot between his collarbones, the juts of his knuckles, the dips of his cheekbones. He makes a humming sound, low in his throat, one brow lifted. "You are a very pretty young man," he says, twisting back around and taking the second shot. "Nina, give him my card."

"She's sleeping, dear," Grell interjects, pulling a piece of cardstock from Nina's clutch, leaning forward to slide it across the bar to Ciel. "Here you are, little one. The numbers on it are Sebastian's and my cell phone, respectively, the link is to the website, and the address to Sebastian's studio is on the back." She yanks a slightly bent notebook out from her own purse, flipping open to a mostly blank page. "Should we schedule an interview?" she asks Sebastian, head tilted towards him.

He shrugs, broad shoulders shifting beneath his coat. "I suppose. I was going to shoot Angela this Saturday night, but, well - I guess you could pencil him in at around eight."

Heat floods Ciel's chest. He doesn't like this - doesn't like these strangers talking about him as if he's not even there. His mouth draws upward, shoulders straightening out. "Excuse me, but who said I'd even agree to this?" He manages to keep himself from slouching when two pairs of eyes meet his, one set mildly confused, and the other, vaguely amused.

"Let me guess," Sebastian begins, straightening up in his seat, "you had some kind of mental breakdown at school, you left, couldn't find work, and now, you've scraped together what little money you do have, and have decided to get drunk. Am I right?" His lips twitch into a self-satisfied little smirk, and when Ciel doesn't respond, his cheeks going crimson, Sebastian lets out a low, little laugh. "You poor thing. If you did decide to model for me, I'd pay you. It wouldn't be much, maybe twenty pounds per hour, depending on how well you photograph." 

Grell's red, thin brows draw together, creasing her forehead neatly down the middle. "You paid Angela nearly two hundred per shoot - and Hannah got one hundred. Even Ran-Mao made more than twenty pounds per hour." She motions towards Ciel, once again, talking like he isn't there. "He's clearly down on his luck, Sebastian, and he's such a pretty little thing. Surely you could pay him more than that."

"He's probably never even modeled before - and I'm positive he hasn't done my kind of modeling before," Sebastian snips back, voice posh and haughty. 

Some small part of Ciel wishes that Alois were here. They've known each other since childhood - Alois had shoved Ciel into a puddle of filthy water, and when Ciel socked him in the mouth, they had both collapsed into a fit of giggles. He would tell this pompous, albeit incredibly attractive asshole to fuck off, maybe even toss a drink in his face. Ciel doesn't have that gusto anymore, has lost the fire of snark and wit that he and Alois had both shared once upon a time.

"What is  _your_ kind of modeling?" 

Sebastian lifts his head from he'd nearly been nose to nose in an argument with Grell, eyes glinting dangerously. "I'm an erotic photographer," he says bluntly, lips curling upward. "I like to photograph the raw emotions that humans create during arousal, most of them conjured up through some kind of confinement, or removal of the senses-"

"Just say BDSM," Grell murmurs, elbowing Sebastian swiftly in the ribs. "He's just a glorified pornographer, darling, really."

"I've seen his stuff," Bard interrupts, cleaning out a glass. "It's not really my cup of tea, but it is nice. It makes me feel, I dunno, kinda dirty, like I need to shower."

Sebastian's nose crinkles with displeasure. "That's what art does - and it's not pornography, Grell. I'm trying to capture an experience, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that sexual desire and arousal overpower the feeling of fear. I find out what the models are afraid of, and I use it to my advantage." He crosses his arms over his chest, leans back like there's something supporting behind him. "It's not an easy job for just anyone."

That does it. His last statement yanks twenty year old Ciel out of his hiding hole, and Ciel is on his feet, eye level at Sebastian's ribs. "I'll do it," he says, feigning confidence. 

"Excuse me?" Sebastian's head turns and then he looks down, eyes just a short glimmer beneath his long, dark eyelashes. "What did you say?"

Ciel swallows hard, but he does not back down. "I'll do it - we can do the interview at Saturday, or sooner, whenever, I don't care. I'll prove to you that I can do it. You think you're so cool, cause you're tall and attractive and take supposedly good fetish pictures. I know we don't know each other, but I do know two things: 1) I think you're a pompous ass, and 2) I'm a good worker. I'm a hard worker, and if you don't think I can lay around as you take pictures of me, than I'll prove you wrong."

Color has risen high into his cheeks, and the are tears knocking at the backs of his eyes, but Ciel refuses to get emotional now.

"You've already proved me wrong," Sebastian says, leaning his elbow against the bar. "You seemed like a mousy little kid, but now, I can see that you're actually a mouthy little shit." The left side of his mouth tugs upwards, and he studies Ciel. "You are definitely my type of subject; and now, I know that you're a brat on top of that, which I like. I can see you're holding a lot of stuff in, what was your name?"

"Ciel," he murmurs, fighting the urge to sink into the floor.

Sebastian hums quietly, resting his chin on two fingers. "Like the sky," he says softly, still watching Ciel. "Do you speak French?"

"No. My father thought it was useless to teach me, so I never learned, even though my mother was all for it."

"Pity," Sebastian says, turning back around on his stool. "Bard, can I have two more shots? Grell, schedule an interview with Ciel on Saturday at eight."

Grell scrambles to find a pen, scratching at a spot behind her ear. "Morning or night?" she asks, earning an irritated sigh from Sebastian.

"What do you think?" he asks, and Grell nods furiously, scribbling something down. He knocks the first shot back, and then twists his head to look once more at Ciel. "I'll see you Saturday night, little one. Don't keep me waiting, and dress comfortably."

-

_Comfortably? What the fuck does that mean?_

On Saturday evening, Ciel spends nearly two hours rummaging through his clothes, tipping everything out of drawers and yanking stuff off hangers, tossing articles of clothing every which way, grumbling to himself as he roots through his socks, trying to find a matching pair. Eventually, Ciel settles on a pair of well fitting black jeans, a black scarf, and a soft, slightly-too-big cream colored sweater that had once upon a time belonged to Lawrence Bluewer, an old boyfriend.

He cracks his knuckles nervously and then doubles checks the address for the hundredth time. Ciel doesn't have a car, and he doesn't have enough money for a cab, so he has no other choice but to walk, slim arms huddled around himself for warmth. 

Jogging across the street, Ciel tries to get downtown as quickly as he can, anxiety rising in his throat. He hasn't really thought about the actuality of what was happening, and now that it's here, he feels like he's going to freak out. He wants to call Alois, wants to fall asleep in his bed like old times, getting piss-drunk and watching old American movies like they used to. He misses Alois, but he knows that their pride is both too high to call the other, regardless of how much missing goes on.

After what feels like forever, Ciel finally makes it a glittering slew of buildings, all much nicer and newer than those in the area he lived. He counts silently until he finds the number to Sebastian's studio and spends ten minutes walking around outside, in the cold, trying to pump himself up enough to go inside.  _Relax, Ciel. Just go inside. He's not gonna murder you - just talk about how he's gonna take weird fetish-y pictures of you, ass naked, probably tied up or held over a fire or something._

He shakes his head loosely, willing away all negative thoughts, and buzzes the door. It buzzes back and unlocks, allowing Ciel to pull it open and step inside, grateful for the near unearthly warmth that is contained inside. He undoes his scarf, lingering in the hall until Sebastian's voice cuts through the silence.

"Don't be scared," he says, voice resonating from deep within another room, "come in here."

Flinching at the sudden sound of Sebastian's voice, Ciel moves along the hall, trailing his fingers against the wall until he makes it to the entrance of the studio. It's a pristine space, with wall-to-wall white marble tile flooring, stark white walls, and a clean looking setup surrounded by cameras and lights. Sebastian has his back to Ciel, fiddling with something, his shoulders impossibly broad and strong looking.

"Is it warm enough in here for you?" Sebastian asks, and Ciel has suddenly lost all his nerve. He crushes his hands against his chest, makes a noise in his mouth that sounds something like  _yes,_ and continues to stand by the doorway. Once more, Sebastian speaks without looking. "You can sit down, if you'd like. In fact, I'd prefer it." He turns around, one brow quirked. "Please, make yourself comfortable." He motions to a black, leather couch that is pushed all the way against the wall, seemingly to be unused for quite some time.

"Thank you," Ciel murmurs, eyes flicking quickly over Sebastian before he takes a seat. He's wearing a white button-up with its sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and a pair of black slacks, a belt tugged around his hips.  _He's a very attractive man,_ Ciel has to admit to himself, watching as Sebastian kneels, fiddling with the box lights and changing some settings on the camera.

After a few moments of silence, Sebastian straightens up, drags a chair over the couch, and takes a seat in front of Ciel, sitting backwards on the chair, legs spread out on either side of the backrest, arms folded across its top. "Have you ever experimented with BDSM before, Ciel?" he asks, voice clear and unwavering, eyes impossibly bright in the studio's white lighting. "From the looks of you," he continues without giving Ciel a chance to respond, "I'd say 'no.' You seem like a good kid, squeaky clean and depressed, am I right? You've probably thought about it before, maybe after the travesty that is 50 Shades came out, but I can assure you that I'm no Christian Grey."

"I've never done anything like that," Ciel says. Lawrence had been a tender lover, despite his often icy disposition. He'd been the kind of boyfriend to kiss Ciel during sex, curling his fingers into the back of Ciel's hair as they quietly fucked; the walls of Ciel's apartment are thin.

Sebastian makes a sound in his throat. "Let's test your pain tolerance," he says, and then immediately leans over and thumps Ciel hard on the forehead. Ciel lets out a small noise of pain, recoiling as he rubs at his skin, already turning red. "Not very high, how disappointing." He licks at his bottom lip curiously, head tilting slightly to the right as he observes Ciel. "I'd like for you to undress, Ciel."

"Excuse me?" Ciel's mouth falls slack with shock, and he finds his arms curling safely around his middle, brows drawn in confusion and anger.

"Just down to your underwear, please. I just need to get a grasp of your angles, how the light plays off of your body." He stands, hands shoved into his pockets. "You can just set your clothes on the couch, and then, please come over to my setup." Sebastian turns away from Ciel crossing over to a door at the side of the room, where he disappears.

Ciel's nerves spike as he steps out of his shoes and socks, standing barefoot on the cool tile. He takes a deep breath before unzipping his jeans, pulling them down over thin, impossibly pale thighs, folding them neatly and settling them down. He has to swallow hard, count to ten, and then he pulls his sweater off in one slick motion, crushing it against his chest for a brief moment before he adds it to the pile of his shed clothes and walks over to the setup, taking a seat on the chaise situated in the center.

Sebastian comes out of the other room after a few moments of unbearable silence, a smirk on his face. "You're a little on the skinny side, huh?" he remarks, walking over to Ciel, hands clasped behind his back. "It's not bad, however," he assures Ciel, even though heat has already drawn high into his cheeks, "it makes for quite interesting shadows. Do you mind if I touch you?"

"No," Ciel says quietly, heart racing. 

Sebastian works quietly, tilting Ciel's chin upward, pressing his fingers in the curve of his hipbone, adjusting his arms and legs just so, humming to himself as he does so. "Your skin is very smooth," he says, continuing to bend Ciel's body like he's made of putty. "You're much prettier when you're quiet."

"Good thing I'm quiet a lot of the time these days," Ciel says, scarcely breathing, trying to focus on anything but the feeling of Sebastian's warm fingers against his skin. It feels so good to be touched - even in a light, fleeting way like this. He hadn't realized how fucking touch-starved he was until this moment, teeth gritted together, trying to keep himself from crying out at the feeling of skin on skin. He can feels tears beginning to well in his eyes, and he struggles to keep them back. He won't look doubly pathetic in front of this cool, calm, collected older man.

"I do have some rules when it comes to my sessions," Sebastian murmurs, stepping backwards, allowing Ciel to sit up, sneakily wiping at his eyes. "You must be able to sit still, stay quiet, follow any and all of my directions, and, most importantly, you must be comfortable being completely naked." He leans against a small, round table, just outside the cluster of lights and cameras, eyes dark. "If you really want this, you always have to be comfortable with me basically exploiting your fears and exposing you to potentially traumatic situations."

He chuckles a little when Ciel's eyes widen. "Don't worry, I wouldn't do anything to cause you actual pain or potential death. Like I said before, I want to see when desire and arousal overcome the feeling of fear, not see how horny I get my models and then kill them. We'll always have safe words or actions if you get too uncomfortable during a shoot, but unless you are in actual pain or are having a near-death experience, I'd prefer it if you didn't do that."

Ciel puffs out his cheeks, feeling positively naked. "As long as I get paid," he murmurs, looking at the ground, "I'm willing to do anything, really."

Sebastian steps forward, tilts Ciel's chin up so that they are looking one another in the eye. "You have to trust me, Ciel. BDSM is built on trust, and even if this is just an expression of my art, you are still going to have full and complete trust in my capabilities and my readiness to look after you."

"I believe you," Ciel says, voice barely a whisper, even though his brain is screaming, tugging on the reigns,  _what are you doing you don't know this man he could cut you up and stick you in a box and then put you on display in an art museum you are going to be naked and get killed LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE._ Ciel swallows down the rising bad thoughts, and nods firmly. "I believe you," he says again, still staring up at Sebastian.

The older man lets a sigh, shoving his hands back in his pockets. "You can put your clothes back on now," he says, stepping back again. "We can schedule a shoot for next week, on Friday night? Maybe around nine?" When Ciel nods, Sebastian scratches at the back of his neck. "How did you get here?" 

"Walked," Ciel says, cheeks burning with shame. "I live over in Clapham."

"Christ, kid, you walked from the common?" Sebastian looks honestly impressed, but also, upset. "Come on, put your clothes back on, I'll drive you home." He waits patiently as Ciel tugs his clothes back on as quickly as he can, and then leads him through a side door out to the back of the studio, where his car is parked. 

It's sleek and black; Ciel doesn't know what kind of car it is, but he does know that the seats are heated and that he could fall asleep in here. He snuggles into the seat as discreetly as he can, clicking his seat belt into place. "Any music requests?" Sebastian asks him, pulling Ciel out of his almost sleep.

"I'm fine with anything," Ciel responds quietly, hands flush against the seat, trying to soak up all the heat he can, like a lizard lounging on a heat rock. "I don't have a cell phone or anything, so I don't really listen to music that often."

Sebastian fiddles briefly with the buttons on the center console, eyes cutting over to Ciel. "You don't have a cell phone? How odd, I thought all you young people were unhealthily attached to them." His fingers are slim, deft. He continues to twist dials on the radio until quiet classical music streams from the speakers, making Ciel exhale peacefully, shutting his eyes. "Do you like classical music, Ciel?"

Ciel hums softly, hands resting against his stomach. "My mother used to play the piano when I was a child. She'd let me put on records and we would dance together in my father's office."

"Used to?" Sebastian pulls out in the street, almost immediately hitting traffic. 

"My parents died when I was eleven," CIel says quietly, opening his eyes to sneak a glance at Sebastian. His face doesn't seem to change, but Ciel notices the way his brows lift minutely, illuminated by the street lights outside. "Our house burned down - I was visiting my aunt for the weekend, so I was safe."

"What a shame," Sebastian replies quietly, turning onto a stretch of road that is almost empty. "I'm sorry for your loss." 

"It was a long time ago," Ciel says softly, looking out the window. "But, thank you." He doesn't know how fast Sebastian is driving, but it feels like a million kilometers per hour. "I really need a car," he murmurs beneath his breath, picking at a hangnail on the side of his thumb.

Sebastian lets a soft chuckle, drawing Ciel's attention. "No cellphone and no car? You're in pretty bad shape, huh?" He licks his lips nervously. "Sorry, that was rude of me to say. I'm guessing that you really need this job, so, after your first shoot, we can sit down, look at how well you photograph, and then we can discuss a salary. How does that sound?" He glances briefly at Ciel, eyes darting from his face to the road in quick succession. 

"I'd like that," Ciel says, voice trembling. "I just want to thank you, for this opportunity. Everything's been falling apart around me lately, and I - I was beginning to lose hope." He sniffs, rubs his nose against his wrist.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves quite yet," Sebastian says, slowing the car to a halt in front of Ciel's apartment building. "You're not modeling for Playgirl or Maxim or anything; I will be adding your photographs to my website. I also teach a photography class in the community center by Kings; perhaps you could sit in one day, get a feel of how I like to shoot." He reaches over, pats Ciel on the shoulder. "All right, go on. It was very nice being able to sit and talk with you, Ciel. I'm looking forward to next Friday."

Ciel nods, hands clenching in fists against his thighs. "Me too," he says softly, unbuckling his seat belt before he climbs out of the car, offering a little wave to Sebastian and watching as his car drives out of sight. He exhales loudly, doubling over, hands against his knees. "Breathe, Ciel, breathe," he murmurs to himself, straightening up and shaking out his body, climbing the billion stairs to his flat until he is home, safe and sound, freezing cold, and alone.


	2. we'll hope for a good day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciel sits in on one of Sebastian's classes and makes up with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee that last chap seemed so long, i really hoped you all liked it! i'm actually super proud of it!!!!!!!
> 
> i love love love all of you so much 
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

On Monday morning, a cacophony of knocks at the front door draws Ciel out of a turbulent, dreamless sleep. He sits up in bed, wearing only his briefs, fumbling for the glasses that sit on his bedside table - not entirely needed, but they helped to clear out the world around the edges when he wasn't wearing his contacts - and then slowly, gets out bed, joint popping nosily. The knocking continues, almost rhythmically as Ciel pads across the hardwood floor, shrugging a thin cotton t-shirt over his narrow shoulders.

"I'm coming!" he calls, voice still hoarse with sleep, stepping back on one heel as he unlocks the front door, pushing up his glasses with the wrist of his left hand. When Ciel gets the door open, he squints, allowing a gust of winter wind to come in, along with the image of a neatly dressed young man, who is smiling and bouncing on the balls of his feet.  _Shit._

"Good morning, Ciel!" It's his landlord, Soma, no doubt coming to collect rent. Behind him stands Agni, Soma's right hand man and bodyguard-boyfriend-type-thing. "Just popping it to see how you were getting along with the last two rent payments." Despite his bubbly, bouncing personality, Soma's voice is volatile, filled with glass and nettles.

Ciel sighs, shaking his head loosely. "Times are tight right now, Soma. I'm trying my best, I really am, but! I have a new job now, and I start on Friday. I'll see how soon I can get a paycheck, and I promise I'll pay you as soon as possible." His voice edges on a whine, still thick with sleep. He is cold, and desperate. If he gets evicted, Ciel will have absolutely nowhere to go.

"I know that you're true to your word," Soma begins, twirling a dark strand of hair around his finger, "but, I have to be a responsible landlord. You know I truly love you, Ciel - you're a model tenant, but, there is only so much I can do. The building's management called, and if you don't pay within the next twenty-four hours, you'll have to leave." He tilts his head in a sad way, mouth puckered. "Sorry, Ciel. I've done everything I can; it's up to you now." He wiggles his fingers in a jaunty little  _farewell,_ and practically skips away from Ciel's door, hands held behind his back, with Agni following somberly behind.

"Fuck me," Ciel hisses, slamming the door behind him. He takes a seat on the couch, something ugly and floral he'd found at a garage sale after dropping out, and rests his head in his hands. He mentally kicks himself for opening the door in the first place - he could have faked an illness, faked an overdose, pretended to be  _Francois,_ Ciel's cousin visiting from France. Soma is a kind man, overtly exuberant and always smiling, but he has little patience for rent fuck-ups. 

Ciel lets out a loud, heavy sigh and glances at the clock mounted on the wall. It's just a little after nine o'clock in the morning. He knows that the community center opens at ten, and after a quick browse on the library's computer, Ciel had learned that Sebastian's class starts at ten-thirty. The older man had proposed the thought of Ciel attending one of his classes, so it wouldn't be completely strange, would it?

He chews nervously on his bottom lip, weighing his options. Option A) Lay around in bed all day, feel bad for himself, get kicked out tomorrow. Option B) Go sit in on Sebastian's class, repress all problems, deal with them in the morning.

Ultimately, Ciel picks the latter. He gets dressed quietly and without speaking, tugging on a warm pair of trackies, a soft, long-sleeve t-shirt, and a heather gray sweater on top of that. He tugs on his thickest socks and a pair of sneakers, the cleanest in his arsenal. 

The walk to Kings from the common takes a little over an hour, and the walk down the community center takes another good twenty minutes. Ciel's cheeks are windchapped and red by the time he gets to the door, and he's pretty sure his lips are bleeding. He steps inside the building, rubbing his hands together, trying to gather up all the heat that he can, and walks down to the front desk, where a kind albeit dazed looking red-haired woman sits, a pair of round glasses balanced on her nose.

"Hello!" she says, voice wobbly and so cheery that Ciel can't fight the small smile that touches his lips. "How can I help you, dear?"

Ciel's clears his throat, leaning forward towards the window a little bit. "I'm looking for, uh, Sebastian - I don't know his last name; he's a, a photography teacher here?" He picks at a hangnail while the woman hums to herself, rocking slightly in her chair.

"You must mean Sebastian Michaelis!" she says, straightening out her glasses with a small nudge of her wrist. When Ciel nods his head in a silent _yes,_ she claps her hands together, adjusting her glasses once more. "Mr. Michaelis' class is down the hall, up two flights of stairs, and it's the third door on the left, room 306. If you get lost, you can always pop your head into another room and feel free to ask for help!" She smiles, leaning forward minutely. "Mr. Michaelis' class started about ten minutes, but I'm sure that he won't mind a straggler as cute as you."

Ciel breathes out a thank you and scrambles down the hall, taking his time when he goes up the first set of stairs. He's been asthmatic since childhood, and he really doesn't want to be huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf when he gets to Sebastian's class. He's equally, if not more, careful on the second flight, taking his time until he's at the top step, breathing in slowly through his nose for a minute, before walking down the hall, staring at the enamel plate mounted above the door to room 306:  _S. Michaelis, photography._

He quietly pushes the door open, nearly smiling when he sees Sebastian standing on a table surrounded by a large cluster of people, all fiddling with cameras, all of them seeming to be in their early twenties.

Sebastian's head turns towards the sound of the door creaking, and he lets out a scoff of a laugh, mouth quirking up at the side. "Well, well, well!" he booms, startling Ciel into nearly stepping backwards, shoulders jumping. "Looks like we have a guest!" He jumps from the table and walks over to Ciel, a hand on the small of his back. "Take a seat wherever, kid. We're just doing a little class modeling right now, seeing what kind of angles and lights we like, and,  _Joker,_ what aperture settings we should be using." He cuts his eyes to a young man with a bush of bright orange hair, who ducks his head, laughing cheekily. 

Ciel is about to take a seat furthest away from the class when Sebastian grabs him by the back of his neck, pulling him back into a standing position. "Since you're here," he says, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, "we can use you as a test model. Get up on the table." He leans in close, nose nearly brushing the side of Ciel's head, "but don't worry; you can keep your clothes on this time." He helps Ciel up onto the table and then steps backwards, hands clasped behind his back. "Class, this is my new friend, Ciel. Say hello, because he's going to be our new test model as you all get used to the cameras for portrait photography."

The room echoes with "hello, Ciel!" and Ciel feels his cheeks go warm. 

"Should I be doing anything with my body?" he asks softly, earning a gentle chuckle from Sebastian. "It's not funny, I'm being serious."

"Just relax," Sebastian says, roaming around the room, "just do whatever feels comfortable. There's really no need for directions in a class like this - they're just learning how to use the cameras for different kinds of photography." He clears his throat loudly, drawing the attention of his students. "We all know what my favorite kind of photography is, don't we, class?"

The class all groans, heads tilting back as they fall into dramatics. "Real life photography," they all chorus, getting a smile from Sebastian. "Sir!" the orange haired boy calls out, waving his arm high in the air, "I can't see anything on the screen. My camera's on, and I did everything you said!"

Sebastian's brows lift as he walks briskly over to the man, leaning over his shoulder. "Well, Joker, you may have done everything I said to do, but you've made one mistake." He leans closer to his ear, a dangerous smile on his face. "You've left the lens cap on." He ruffles his hand into the back of Joker's head, chuckling. "Everyone, please remember to take your lens caps off immediately after you turn the camera on - and for the love of God, Charles, can you please use the neck strap?"

"Which one?" two voices echo, and Ciel looks to see two tall, slender men standing side by side, their arms linked as they both look through the viewfinders of the cameras.

"Grey," Sebastian replies, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Phipps, you already have your neck strap on. Perhaps you could teach your friend a thing or two?"

"Of course, sir," the latter of the two quips, leaning closer to help the other young man out. 

Sebastian continues to roam around the room, observing his students work, humming both approval and disapproval, pointing at things on the display screen, murmuring in their ears, squatting down with their point-and-shoots to get a new perspective, cameras clicking away at Ciel's burning face. After a while, he leans against a table that is pushes against the back wall, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted to the right slightly, one brow lifted as he observes Ciel.

"Perhaps we should try a different angle of our model," Sebastian says, pushing off of the table, walking over to where Ciel is standing. "Sit on the edge of the table, Ciel," and even though his voice is calm and even, there is something so domineering in it that has Ciel falling flat on his ass before Sebastian even makes it to him. He rearranges Ciel's limbs gently, fingers strong and warm, curling his back down, his hand against his cheek, neck turned just so. "All right, class, move around the room and try to make use to the shadows that the light casts on him."

His index finger trails gently across Ciel's chest, digging lightly against the fabric of his sweater. "See the way the shadows bow out down against his chest and left arm?" His finger moves upwards towards where Ciel's collarbone is visible beneath his shirt. "And here, how it makes him look more gaunt, more delicate?" He pulls away from Ciel, turning back to the students. "I really want you guys to get a grasp of how important light is going to be in your photography, and how to arrange yourselves to get better angles of your models."

One young girl raises her hand, a silent windmill, and Sebastian turns his head towards her, eyes impossibly soft. "Yes, Sullivan?"

"Sir, how am I supposed to get on the ground to take pictures of him?" Ciel moves his head the slightest inch to see that she is in a wheelchair, legs thin and frail. 

Sebastian makes a humming sound in his throat, hand at his chin. "Perhaps you don't have to get on the ground, Sullivan. You just have to find an angle that works for you. Everyone is different - use the camera to your advantage, let the camera act as your legs." He smiles gently, head tilted slightly to the left. "If you need any help, just let me know, okay? We can figure something out." 

Ciel swallows hard, heart racing in his throat. He admires the way that Sullivan's copper-green eyes light up at the sound of Sebastian's soft voice, her mouth wobbling almost imperceptibly. "Thank you, sir," she says quietly, fingers curling protectively around the camera.

He sits for what feels like hours, occasionally having his position changed, body bent and folded beneath Sebastian's strong, steady hands, silently wishing that the moments could last longer. He just wants to be touched, in any way, shape or form; Ciel is so fucking pathetic and touch-starved that he'd let even the students rearrange his body in the way that they wanted, as long as someone had their hands on him. 

"All right, kids," Sebastian says when the clock hits one, clapping his hands together, "put your SD cards in the cabinets and place your cameras back in the bin,  _safely,_ Joker, please!" He helps Ciel climb off of the table, watching as his students squabble, arguing loudly with one another, a small smile on his face. "I'll see you all tomorrow, be safe, have a good rest of your day, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he calls after them as they walk out single file, all still jeering loudly, laughing and pushing.

"You must really like teaching," Ciel says as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater just a little bit, watching Sebastian rearrange their cameras into a more neat collection, shutting and locking the bin. "You're much nicer to them than you were to me at the bar."

Sebastian breathes out a little laugh, collecting their SD cards and placing them into a small container. "I was quite rude, wasn't I?" he asks softly, glancing briefly at Ciel. "I wasn't in the best mood, but I guess that doesn't excuse my behavior." He tucks the container into his messenger bag and turns around, one hand extended out to Ciel. "Let me reintroduce myself. My name is Sebastian Michaelis, it's a pleasure to meet you." His eyes are practically garnet in the room's white lighting, and Ciel has to remember how to breathe.

"Ciel Phantomhive," he murmurs, taking Sebastian's hand in his own, "the pleasure is mine." He can't suppress the small smile that threatens to overtake his face, minutely ducking his head. "I actually wanted to discuss something with you," he says, wringing his hands nervously as he watches Sebastian roam around the room, collecting things and straightening up.

"Of course, kid, shoot."

Ciel swallows nervously, attempting to weakly clear his throat. "I'm facing eviction at my flat - I'm two months behind on rent, and I have twenty-four hours to pay, and I was wondering if there was any way that I could get my paycheck early." He continues blabbering, hasn't even noticed that Sebastian has stopped moving, and is now standing stationary a few feet away from him. "I'd pay you back, or you could keep my other paychecks until it's all paid off, but I really need the money, because if I get kicked out, I won't have anywhere else to go."

"Relax," Sebastian says, leaning his head towards Ciel, attempting to get a better look. "I said that we would discuss your salary after your shoot on Friday, and I intend to stand firm on that ground. But, I can help you. I can give you money for rent, with no need for repayment. Your services to me will be reward enough." He retrieves his wallet from his pocket and pulls out a wad of bills, holding them out towards Ciel. "This should be enough for three months, yes?"

Ciel's hands tremble, his mouth cotton dry. "I only need two months-"

"What about this month?" Sebastian's voice is incredibly soft, and he continues to hold the money out to Ciel. "You said that you believed me, that you trusted me - so I'm returning the favor. This is me trusting, believing you." He takes Ciel's hand in his own, curls the bills into his fingers, lingers for a second too long.

"Thank you," Ciel says quietly, willing his voice not to crack. He feels his sinuses thicken, threatening tears once again, but he sniffs, crushing the balled-up hand against his chest. "You've done too much for me already. I'll never be able to thank you enough."

Sebastian ruffles Ciel's hair in the same way that he had Joker's, tenderly, a soft grin on his face. "Don't get all mushy on me, kid. I kind of admired when you stood up to me the other night. Be that snappy little shit I know you can be. I really want you to bring that personality to our shoot on Friday - it's always more fun if you put up a fight first." He glances at his watch, shoulders jumping. "Shit, I'm late for a meeting. Do you have a ride home?"

Ciel licks his bottom lip, filled with sudden hopefulness. "Yeah," he says firmly, "I do."

-

The woman at the front desk had been kind enough to give him a few pence for the pay telephone in the hallway, which Ciel has been pacing in front of for nearly ten minutes. He knows Alois' phone number by heart, he hasn't changed it since sixth form, always said he couldn't be hassled remembering a new number.

Ciel takes a deep breath picks up the phone, slipping his money in the slot, and dials Alois' number. He counts to ten, recites the alphabet, and gets through 26 of the American presidents before Alois picks up, voice hot with anger.

"If this Azzuro, I already fuckin' told you I wasn't gonna pay you back, cause you sell shit weed!"

"No, no, no, Alois, it's me, it's Ciel," he manages to say, body impossibly tense.

There is a beat of silence, then, "what do you want?"

Ciel cracks the knuckles on his left hand nervously, pacing around again. "Look, I know that I've been a shitty friend, and that I've hurt you - but my brain's been all fucked up and I didn't know how to cope with my emotions and I almost got evicted, but I got a new job, I have rent money, and... I miss you. I miss talking to you, getting drunk with you, I miss being your friend." He swallows, fear rising in his stomach. "I just wanna fix things between us - Lizzie, too. Please, Alois."

"You are a shitty friend," Alois says, and Ciel can hear him roll over onto his stomach in bed. "And you're a self-involved bitch, and you really hurt Lizzie's feelings. I don't even give a shit about me - you know how I am - but she was fucking gutted, Ciel. She cried for like, four days straight, missed a shitton of lectures, and nearly failed three of her classes because of you." He sighs loudly, dramatic as ever. "But, I guess, if you're willing to try, we can probably work it out."

Ciel makes a tiny sound through his teeth, filled with happiness. "I really do want to be like we used to, Alois - and I need a little favor from you." He immediately regrets saying it, but Alois doesn't seem fazed. 

"What do you need?"

"I'm at the community center by Kings and uh, I need a ride back to the common."

Alois sighs again, and Ciel can hear the jingle of keys. "Wait by the front," he says, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

-

 _As soon as I can_ actually meant an hour and forty-five minutes in Alois-speak. Ciel waits outside for approximately ten minutes, and then has to hide away inside, sitting on the ground just outside of the front door, keeping his eye on passing cars. He makes friends with the woman at the front desk, learns that her name is Mey-rin, and that's she's been friends with Sebastian for quite a while. He plays wastebasket basketball with the janitor, who chuckles and allows him to continue the game for almost thirty minutes. 

By the time Alois pulls up to the front, Ciel is on his fifth cup of free, made-with-water tepid hot chocolate, jiggling his left leg up and down. He slips through the front door, offering a wave to Mey-rin as he leaves, and jogs over to Alois' car, pulling the passenger side door open and taking a seat. "It's freezing out there," he says, draining the rest of his drink before tucking it into the plastic bag that Alois kept on the floor for random trash.

"You look like shit," Alois says, pulling away from the front of community center. "When's the last time you ate?"

Ciel peels a piece of skin off of his bottom lip. "Last night. I got some cheap takeaway from that shitty Chinese place down the road." It's not completely a lie. He'd had a small order of egg-drop soup.

"I'm taking you out to eat, you poor bastard." He nudges Ciel with his elbow, a grin on his face. "I missed you, cunt." 

"I missed you, too."

-

Ciel is halfway through his plate of spaghetti bolognese when Alois drops a bomb on him, nearly making him choke. "Claude and I broke up," he says, poking at his food with a fork. "It was about two months ago - I wanted to call you, but I wasn't ready to forgive you for being a little shit." He sniffs, wipes his nose against his sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, babe," Ciel says after he wipes his mouth, reaching across the table to grab at Alois' hand. "If it makes a difference, I always thought that he was creepy anyway - and he could be really mean sometimes." His brows knit together, head tilted. "You know that I'm always here for you, right? No matter what, from now until forever."

Alois nods, shakes Ciel's hand off. "Finish eating your food, okay? You look a lot skinnier than usual." He takes a bite of his food, chews, and swallows, pointing his fork at Ciel. "So - you said you got a job? What is it?"

Ciel chokes on his food, wheezing loudly until he manages to get a drink, swallowing four times in quick succession, trying to even out his breathing. "I uh, I'm doing some modeling for a photographer. He teaches a class at the community center; that's why I was there today. His name is Sebastian Michaelis, I met him at a bar the other day." He shoves more pasta into his mouth, too hungry to really savor.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Alois has an incredulous look on his face, brows raised high on his forehead. "You met  _Sebastian Michaelis_ at a bar, and he gave you a  _job?_ " He breathes out a scoff, stabbing into a chunk of meat rather violently. "He makes like, a million pounds per year." 

"What?" Ciel's face crinkles with confusion, spaghetti sauced smeared around his mouth like a child. "He teaches at the community center, I highly doubt he makes that much. I mean, I haven't seen his photography yet, but I know what he does, and I feel like it's too controversial for him to make that kind of money." He shakes his head in mild confusion. "Wait, how do you even know who he is?"

"I was a horny teenager once; I was into kinky shit," Alois says, lifting his brows in silent irritation. "I'm sure he'll figure out that you're into vanilla shit anyway and get bored of you always saying  _no,_ or crying when he touches you too roughly. He used to be a painter, you know that right? They apparently did a little section on him in Edward's art history class."

Ciel rolls his eyes at the mention of Lizzie's older, overbearing brother, Edward. "No, I didn't know that he was a painter. I hardly know him. If he was such a good painter, why did he switch over to photography, then? Why is he teaching in some second rate community center, rather than teaching grown adults how to do art in some place better?" He puffs out his cheeks, suddenly upset. "Regardless of what he does, he gave me a job, and I want to work my hardest. I want to prove to him that I can be just as sexy - if not sexier - than the girls that he shoots."

A passing waiter glances at Ciel, confusion coloring his face.

"You're the size of a fourteen year old, and you have to sit down for twenty minutes when you stub your toe," Alois says with a chuckle, reaching for his glass of water. "What makes you think that you become the muse of a fetish photographer that deals mostly in BDSM?"

Ciel's knuckles go white as he grips his fork tightly, palm sweating. "I don't want to be his  _muse,_ I just want to prove him wrong. At the bar, he said he was sure that I couldn't do it, that I have never done modeling before, and that I  _certainly_ couldn't do his kind of modeling. He's such an ass sometimes." He scrapes his remaining pasta into a small mound, shovels it into his mouth, and then points at Alois' mostly untouched plate. "Are you going to finish that?"

"Help yourself," Alois says, sliding the plate across the table. "I am proud of you, regardless. When you dropped out, we all kind of just thought you'd die. Some even placed bets on when and how."

Ciel works his jaw in anger. "You placed one, didn't you?"

"Twenty pounds said that you'd die in a freak bus accident sometime in January." He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "We still have a couple of weeks til then, so who knows? Maybe it could happen."

"Don't say something like that!" Ciel hisses, rapping his knuckles against the wooden underside of the table. "Don't put something like that out into the universe." He silently finishes Alois' plate, suppressing the urge to lick both of them clean. He sighs, patting his slightly swollen tummy. "Thanks for lunch, Alois. It was really nice seeing you again."

Alois yawns, raising his arm in the air, motioning for the bill to be brought to the table. "Of course, dove. Even if we aren't always best friends, we're always family; you know that." He slides his credit card into the bill holder, allowing their server to take it away hurriedly, leaving a lavender scented trail in her wake.

Tears well in Ciel's eyes and drip into the leftover sauce on his plate. They stream down his cheeks, and Ciel takes a few ragged breaths in, trying to stop the flow. 

"Oh, stop crying, I'm only telling the truth," Alois chastises, leaning across the table with a napkin to dap at Ciel's face. "You've always been such a crybaby," he murmurs, a laugh hidden in his voice. "I truly did miss you, you absolute spork."

"I missed you, too!" Ciel wails, sobbing loud enough to draw looks from nearby tables. Their waiter drops Alois' check back off, her pale brows drawn tight in confusion, which Alois is able to melt away by waving his hand vaguely in Ciel's direction, explaining that he's just a sensitive soul deep down. Once he's calmed down, Ciel stretches his arms up above his head, yawning quietly. "All right, I need to go home and pay three months of rent."

Alois' oceanic eyes widen, mouth agape. "Three months of rent? Christ, Ciel, get your ass in the car. Right now."

"Going," Ciel complies, happy to have mended things with his best friend, been helped out with rent, been stuffed full of pasta, and to not have to walk back home in the cold. For the first time in months, Ciel feels completely and utterly in peace.


	3. hatefuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday, D-Day, take-off-your-clothes-Ciel-day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am. so proud of this fic. i really like the direction its going in and im actually having fun updating it??? go me! also thank u all for your sweet comments and kudos, my heart is so big for each and every one of you ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
> 
> \- also brief talk of suicide / suicidal ideation somewhere in the middle, be safe please!!!!!
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Ciel's palms are slick with sweat. He's usually good at hiding his nervousness, but it's probably impossible in this situation. The woman up the street, a kind old woman named Elizabeth, whose husband, Tanaka, sometimes brought little plants over for Ciel to have, had given him a few pounds for taking out their young, incredibly strong dog, Pluto - so Ciel had been able to take the bus to Sebastian's studio, rather than make the million hour hike from the common.

Like the first night, Ciel is pacing back and forth in front of Sebastian's studio, his damp hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie, trying to breathe evenly. He bounces on the balls of his feet like a boxer, jiggling like a lunatic in front of the door, in the cold, at night. He eventually presses the button, tempted to smash his face against the concrete wall until it buzzes back, allowing him in to face what feels like certain death.

Wandering into the room he had first been in, Ciel discovers Sebastian sitting in a big, white armchair that he's positive hadn't been in the room last time. He's wearing a white button-up once again, but a good majority of it is undone, exposing his chest in little gaps and glimpses, and a pair of black jeans that hug his thighs far too tightly for Ciel's comfort. "Do some stretches, and then get undressed," Sebastian says, not looking away from the camera he has in his hands. "And don't forget my rules."

"Yes, sir," Ciel says quietly, bending over briefly to touch his toes, fingertips barely brushing the floor. He warms up his muscles, turning side to side, and then tugs his hoodie off over his head without the hesitation he had before. He folds it and sets it down on the couch before pulling his boots off, quickly followed by his socks and jeans. The last to go is his underwear, however, and apparently, it's much too slow for Sebastian's liking.

"I told you that you have to be comfortable being naked, Ciel, didn't I? Anytime you're in this studio, I want you naked, unless otherwise specified, hear me?" He lifts his head to fix Ciel with a look, dark circles beneath his eyes. 

Ciel nods without speaking, tugging his briefs down past his knees, and then completely off, allowing them to join the rest of his clothes. "Where should I stand?" Ciel's voice is barely a whisper; the aura that emanates from Sebastian is nearly palpable, thick as black treacle.

He seems nothing like the kind teacher that Ciel had seen on Monday. This is a different Sebastian, all teeth and gleaming eyes, voice harsh and hushed, like little daggers. "You're only to speak when you're spoken to, Ciel. That was another one of my rules - you must be able to be quiet; and so far, you aren't doing a very good job." He stands from the chair, and marches over to Ciel, eyes flicking up and down over him. "For now, I want you to stand in front of the chair, hands behind your back, back to me." 

Ciel moves quietly and quickly, to stand in front of the armchair, hands resting at the small of his back. He listens to Sebastian shuffling around behind him, footsteps heavy and deliberate, nearly striking fear into Ciel. 

"Don't be scared," Sebastian murmurs as he twists something around Ciel's wrists, something smooth that doesn't feel like rope, but also doesn't feel quite like silk. "If you feel any numbness or tingling in your fingers, you need to tell me immediately, am I understood?" When Ciel nods, there is a beat of silence, a glissando of Sebastian's fingers against his waist. "I distinctly remembering telling you to speak when spoken to, so I would prefer it if you answered me audibly."

Ciel swallows hard. "Yes, sir, you're understood." He's uneasy, not entirely afraid, but getting there. He really doesn't know Sebastian that well - on Monday he had been kind, warm, generous, caring, and now, he's like a cold, clinical surgeon, preparing Ciel for surgery. 

"All right," Sebastian says, helping Ciel into the chair, "sit with your legs over the arm of the chair. Since you haven't done BDSM before, I'm starting you off easy, just tying your wrists and ankles. After we discuss your salary and your fears, your limits, then we'll really get into other things." He kneels, binding Ciel's ankles together, and Ciel can see that he's using a thin strip of black fabric, soft and smooth against his skin. "Beautiful," Sebastian says, slowly backing away to grab his camera. "Stay just like that for me, okay, sweetheart?" He squats in front of the camera, snapping a few pictures, before he lets the device dangle from his neck, moving back over to Ciel.

He bends Ciel's legs upwards toward his chest, his shoulders shifting towards the right, showing much more of his chest than before. "Tilt your head back a little bit, Ciel, I wanna get that shadow just there."

Ciel complies, body twisted like a pretzel. His hands behind his back are hot, his feet cold, and he's thinking about what kind of fears and limits he'll discuss with Sebastian. 

"Good boy," Sebastian murmurs, taking more pictures, "beautiful. You're a natural, really." He continues to murmur gently as he rearranges Ciel in certain positions, his touches warm and strong, demanding. The sound of his constant praise is just enough for heat to bloom beneath Ciel's skin, turning his chest strawberry red, burning into his cheeks and along his ribs, trailing down his body and stopping in between his thighs.

He struggles to breathe, to keep his legs together, breathing in shakily through his nose. 

Sebastian chuckles, still looking through the viewfinder of the camera. "So that's what it takes, hmm? A little praise here and there, and you're already a red-faced mess. I haven't even touched you yet." He pulls Ciel's legs apart at the knees, ankles still tied together. "This is what I want," he murmurs, the camera's shutter clicking, capturing every inch of Ciel's shame.

Tears of embarrassment well in his eyes, cascading down his cheeks and he grits his teeth, spit collecting in the corners of his mouth.  _Fuck you,_ twenty-year-old Ciel yells, rattling the bars of his cage in Ciel's brain.  _Fuck me,_ twenty-three year old Ciel whispers quietly, hands tied behind his back, ankles tied together, cock exposed and flushed red. "I can't feel my pinky finger," Ciel murmurs, ears ringing like church bells. 

"Sit up straight," Sebastian commands, letting his camera dangle against his chest, and squats down, uncomfortably close to Ciel's cock. He unties Ciel's binds, rubs soothing little circles into Ciel's tingling left hand. "You did very well," he says quietly, continuing to work blood back into Ciel's hand, head tilted downwards. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice is soft, like crushed velvet - Ciel could curl up in his mouth and fall asleep.

Ciel shakes his head loosely, blinking rapidly.  _Are there two Sebastians?_ he wonders, because there's no way that the Sebastian knelt before him is the same Sebastian that was just taking pictures of his cock and making him cry out of shame. "Can I put my clothes back on?" he asks, drawing Sebastian's attention up to his face, eyes widening.

"Of course, kid." He reaches up, brushes a stray tear off of Ciel's face. "Do you need help getting up? Let me get you some water or something." Sebastian stands, jogs over into the side room that Ciel has never been in, and returns shortly carrying a bottle of water. He grabs Ciel's clothes on the way back to the chair and helps him sip out of the bottle, some water spilling onto his bare chest, freezing cold against red hot.

Ciel hisses through his teeth and stands, grabbing onto Sebastian's bicep for support. He feels like a newborn giraffe, wobbly and weak-kneed as he pulls his briefs on, shimmying them up over his slender hips. Sebastian helps him step into his jeans, tugging them up past his calves as Ciel clings to his arms to keep from falling backwards, doing his best to not flinch when Sebastian tugs his jeans up and zips them, fingers ice cold for once.

"I've got you," Sebastian says quietly, voice a golden murmur, as Ciel pulls his hoodie on over his head, Sebastian's hands at his hips, too big, too strong, fingers digging in too hard. "Are you okay?" he asks again, ever soft.

"I'm fine, thank you," Ciel says. He's whispering too, and he has no idea why or when they had gotten so close. He can see Sebastian's jugular pulsing in his throat, a green snake pumping beneath porcelain, blood sticky red and berry sweet beneath. He swallows, licks his lips nervously. "What did you think of my first shoot?" he asks, voice still hushed.

Sebastian hasn't let go of his hips. "I thought you were exquisite," he breathes, head tilted slightly to the left. He is a Greek God, chiseled from marble, created from thunder and lightning, eye sockets filled with dark gems, mouth stuffed with saltwater pearls - and he is letting go, is stepping away from Ciel, hands suddenly useless, shoved into his pockets, like he is afraid of them, like he doesn't know what he could do with them. "The shoots turn me into someone else. That's why Angela left. I pushed her too far, must have shoved her too hard, tied her up too tightly." 

"I hope you got some good pictures of me," is all Ciel says back, hands shoved into his pocket. "Do you think the buses run this late?"

Sebastian licks his lips, eyes glittering. "They don't," he says firmly, reaching for his keys on the table. "I know for a fact that they don't run this late. Let me take you home, Ciel."

-

Ciel practically curls up in the car's heated seat, body aching with longing for something warm like this to call his own. He waits for Sebastian to get in the car, and turns his head towards the older man, eyes heavy with sleep. "My friend told me that you're an artist," he says, drawing his feet up into the seat, arms curled around his knees.

Sebastian hums in his throat, fiddling with the radio again. "I used to be," he murmurs softly, glancing at Ciel. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes," Ciel says back, closing his eyes as he leans his head against the headrest. "Why did you say used to?" he asks, voice a tingle in his throat, humming in his ears. "Apparently they did a lecture on you in an art history class at Kings. I heard you were rich and famous."

He can hear Sebastian swallow, hears the rumble of the car, and the wind blowing past. "I studied abroad, in Paris, where I learned to paint," he says, and Ciel opens his eyes, head tilted slightly. "I had some things hung up in local art galleries, and then I was offered a teaching position at an art university in Wokingham." His jaw clenches, teeth clicking together audibly. "I slept with a student who had become my muse, and when the head professor found out, I was removed from the school." 

"You slept with a student?" Ciel parrots quietly, heat rising in his chest. He struggles to sit up, to keep from falling asleep, keeping his attention fixed on Sebastian. 

"Yes, I did. I moved to London, tried to get a job at Kings, but they all knew me, they knew what I had done - the looks on their faces nearly killed me. I thought about just giving up, just ending it all, but, then I found a camera at a thrift shop, with a roll of undeveloped film still in it. Sure enough, it turned out to be fetish photography - much more... demure, than what I shoot now, but, oh, it was breathtaking. The looks on the girls faces were nearly ethereal: pleasure mixed with pain and guilt and confusion, I loved it." He breathes out a little laugh, knuckles going white around the steering wheel. "I began posting ads for models, starting doing the shoots more regularly. I did a few galleries out of my storage room, and one night, I met Grell, and Bard, and then Nina, and Mey-rin, and, now I'm here."

Ciel picks at a hangnail, doesn't look at Sebastian. "Do you still have any of the paintings that you did of the student?"

"I have one," Sebastian murmurs, "the last one that I did never made it to the school." He glances briefly at Ciel, eyes glowing in the passing street lights. "Would you like to see it?"

Ciel nods, mouth dry. "I would," he says, toes curling inside his shoes. "Can I see it now?"

The car pulls to a stop at a red light, and Sebastian turns his head towards Ciel, a smile tugging at his lips. "I think I could arrange that," he says, eyes dark and heavily lidded. "It's not anything interesting or kinky or wild, but, it's an important piece to me. So, even if you don't like it, can you just pretend that you do?"

"I don't think I'll have to worry about that," Ciel murmurs, heat drawing into his cheeks. "I looked at your website on the library computer, needless to say, I got kicked out." He chuckles, licks his lips. "I think what you do is amazing, Sebastian. You put those girls in such... scary positions, but they look like angels, like they're glowing, you know? Radiant."

Sebastian presses the gas, making a quick u-turn. "That's what you looked like today, you know that right? You were red-cheeked and teary eyed, and you looked incredible. The black fabric against your pale skin, the red of your body against the white of the chair, your blue eyes swimming with tears." He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, glances once more at Ciel. "It may have been the best starter shoot I've ever done."

Ciel's eyes widen. "Really?"

Sebastian hums in his throat, twisting the volume knob on the radio, allowing crackly music to fill the space of the car. "My father used to play this kind of music for me when I was a child," he says, a relaxed smile on his face as they coast down the street. "He'd wake me up in the morning by pulling my curtains open, and then he'd put something on, usually Bowlly or someone of the like, and then he'd make himself some tea, and we'd sit in the sitting room, and just listen, all morning." He licks his bottom lip, breathing out a little sigh. "It all seems so long ago now."

"How old are you?" Ciel asks, fingers curling against his knees. He wants to know more about Sebastian, wants to learn everything that there is to know.

"I turned thirty-seven in October," Sebastian replies breezily, clenching his teeth together when Ciel sucks in a loud breath of air. "What, did you think I was some twenty-five year old that taught photography to other twenty year olds?"

Ciel shakes his head, heart racing. "No, I thought you were in your early thirties, but now, I have the pleasure of knowing I'm in the company of an old man." He's flirting, sure, but where's the harm? Ciel is happy, warm, at ease for the first time in ages. He can practically feel the knots in his shoulders unwinding, escaping from his body with a gentle sigh. "You know, I really liked seeing you teach on Monday. You worked really well with the students."

"You could join the class," Sebastian says, pulling into a large parking garage, the dim, yellow lights illuminating his face in passing stripes. "It's a free course for the students - I'm still paid by the center, but it's a good experience for both the students and myself. You could always just be our model whenever I should so need one." 

Ciel pretends to ponder it, resting his chin atop his knuckles. "I don't know, how would I get there? I don't have a car, and I can't always afford the bus."

Sebastian parks the car, its engine shuddering to a stop. "I could always pick you up," he says, turning in his seat to look at Ciel, face free of any sarcasm or teasing. He looks dead serious, brows set heavy above his eyes. "I leave at around nine in the morning to get everything ready, but I wouldn't mind leaving a little bit earlier to pick you up, if you wanted to join me."

"I think I'd like that," Ciel says quietly as he unbuckles his seat belt and pushes the passenger side door open, shivering in the cold. "Fuck, it's cold out here," he hisses, hands tucked within his pocket. He walks alongside Sebastian, using the older man's height to his advantage as a kind of shield. "I hope it's warmer in your flat than it is our here." They duck into the elevator, and Ciel blows into his hands, fingertips already icy.

"It should be fine," Sebastian says, pressing the button for the seventh floor, and leans back against the wall of the elevator. "So, Ciel, besides isolating yourself and making weird friends in bars, what do you like to do? What are your hobbies?"

Ciel rocks back on his heels, biting as his lip. "I like reading," he says, glancing at the metal floor of the elevator. "I used to watch a lot of movies with Alois, mostly old American ones, but when we stopped talking, I stopped watching them. I mainly just like words."

Sebastian tilts his head as the elevator doors open, leading them into the complex. "What's your favorite book?"

He has his hand on the small of Ciel's back and it's hard to focus on anything with him so fucking close, so warm, so kind and sensitive, and with his voice that deep and smooth. Ciel takes a deep breath through his nose, trying to remember everything that he's read in his whole life. "I read  _Lolita_ in the summer before I started university," he says, still very much focused on the way that Sebastian's fingers feel through his hoodie, warm and solid. "I think it's the only book that's ever... I dunno, touched me? That sounds wrong."

Sebastian unlocks the door to his flat, guiding Ciel in. "I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of arts." He slips his shoes off and motions for Ciel to do the same. "And this, is the only immortality you and I may share-"

"My Lolita," Ciel finishes, voice soft, and he is nearly overtaken by some overwhelming urge to kiss Sebastian, to comb his fingers through Sebastian's hair, but he doesn't. Instead, he follows Sebastian through the hall and into his sitting room, which, like the studio, is stark white, with sleek black, leather furniture and a flat screen television mounted on the wall. "Your flat is nice," Ciel murmurs, walking behind Sebastian as they go into his bedroom, which is much darker in comparison to everything else.

The walls are painted burgundy, the sheets pitch black and seem to be silk. Sebastian brings Ciel over towards the bed, and points to a long, rectangular painting hung up on the wall. "That's my Doll," Sebastian says, his fingers curled over Ciel's shoulder.

Ciel's teeth come together, jaw pulsing and he tries to keep from crying. The boy painted is laying on his side, eyes dull and lifeless, mouth soft and pink. His hair is like curly cloud, his head tilted like his neck is broken, limbs long and thin, bones like silver beneath his skin. Silent tears track down Ciel's cheeks, pattering onto the carpet below. He takes in a shuddering breath, wiping his damp eyes on his sleeves, sniffling. "It's beautiful," Ciel murmurs, chin wobbling.

"Don't cry, kid, it's not sad." He rubs Ciel's back, head tilted down. "We had one of those... fleetingly wonderful relationships. I know, it's shitty of me to sleep with a student, but, he was 19, I didn't do anything untoward to him."

Ciel turns around, facing Sebastian, eyes big and wet. "Did you love him?" he asks softly, voice cracking. 

Sebastian's lips turn up into a small smile, his eyes flicking up to the painting. "I think so," he murmurs, voice barely a whisper. "That was the last painting I've done, and that was years ago. I don't even think I could even pick up a brush anymore." He sits on the edge of the bed, letting out a sigh. "I was a different person, back then."

Ciel sits beside him, their legs nearly touching. "What were you like?" he asks, digging. He wants to know - no, needs to know, desperate for anything that Sebastian will give to him, especially when he speaks this quietly, sitting in a dimly lit room, eyes flashing with nostalgia and upset.

"Self indulgent," Sebastian says, voice harsh in his mouth, fingers curling against his thighs. "I was... inconsiderate, solipsistic, sybaritic, awful - I did what I wanted, didn't care what other people thought of me and definitely didn't think of consequences. I drank too much, did club drugs, fooled around with everyone and anyone." His hands are trembling, and Ciel wants to hold Sebastian, press his head into his chest. "I was a monster, until I met Doll."

He licks his bottom lip, glancing at Ciel, glancing up at the painting. "He was so soft and sad, so little - but he was so strong. He'd overcome so much in his life, and then I went, and I ruined everything. I just wanted to paint him, wanted to capture that sadness that he always carried with him, and I ended up fucking him, and simultaneously, I ended up fucking up his life."

Ciel's voice is hardly there, soft and gentle. "What happened to him?" 

Sebastian swallows, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. "He was pulled from the school, and a few days later, he killed himself." He licks his lips, hanging his head. "I don't know if you've ever lost a muse, but, it nearly killed me. It was like a void in my life, an emptiness that I couldn't fill - and that's why I left, why I started doing the shoots, started teaching - I wanted to keep myself as busy as I could, because if I was busy, it took away my time to think, to be alone and to feel everything that I had bottled up, you know?"

"I think so," Ciel murmurs, their thighs fully touching now. "When I dropped out, I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't read, didn't go out, didn't talk to anyone. I was more like a ghost, than a person. I was so isolated and avoided the real world around me so heavily that people actually thought I was dead." He lets out a little scoff, eyes blurring with tears. "People were posting shit on my Facebook all the time, saying that I was in a better fucking place, that I would be missed, and you know what? It's all bullshit."

He takes a deep breath in, sniffling away his tears. "No one gives a fuck about you, until something awful happens. I was stuck in a shitty flat, losing my mind, and nobody cared, until they thought I was dead." He's suddenly filled with laughter, head thrown back and sides cramping with giggles. 

Sebastian lets out a scoff, and then suddenly, he's joining in, elbowing Ciel in the side until he's wheezing with every breath, chest heaving. He waves his hand, rocking back and forth, pushing at Sebastian's firm chest, incredibly hot beneath his thin button up.

"It'll be all right, Ciel," Sebastian manages to get out once their laughter subsides, Ciel's fingers still resting against his chest. He licks his lips, eyes flicking over Ciel's face. "I promise," he says, jaw pulsing as he swallows, Adam's apple bobbing.

Ciel nods, eyes wide as Sebastian's hand curls beneath his jaw, fingertips rough and hot, his palms smooth and gentle, bringing Ciel's face over to his, foreheads touching. "I believe you," Ciel murmurs against Sebastian's mouth before tugging him into a kiss, slick and hot, licking into each other's mouths, fingers grabbing and tightening, Ciel sliding into Sebastian's lap, grinding, searching for any kind of friction, Sebastian's hands in Ciel's hair, painfully tight - he doesn't care. He wants this, has maybe wanted it the whole time, and he wants it to hurt.

He wants it to hurt because it means that it's happening, that it means something.

He wants the hole in his chest fucked open, cracked at the outsides, wants Sebastian to plunge his hands deep into his chest and rip out all his fucking organs - and he is sliding off of Sebastian's lap, onto the bed, their bodies separating. He is cold, panting, mouth open and wet.

"I can't, kid," Sebastian says. "I can't get involved with you - it's a rule. I don't fuck my models, and they certainly don't fuck me. Let's get something straight here, Ciel," Sebastian continues, voice dark and cold, "I'm in charge, here. Okay? Don't think for a second, that you'll ever be in control, okay?" His teeth gleam between his lips, little slivers of moonlight. He's not a Greek god anymore - he is a melting bronze statue, eyes dull stones, teeth a handful of rocks. His walls are up, blocking Ciel out.

Ciel inhales through his nose, breath shuddering out. "All right," he whispers, "can we just... pretend it didn't happen?"

Sebastian shakes his head. "No, we can't pretend it didn't happen, but we can use it to our advantage. I want you to bring that spark, that ferocity, to our next shoot. I want you to bring that... I don't know - desperateness to our next shoot."

"You think I'm desperate?" Ciel asks, letting out a shocked laugh. 

Sebastian shakes his head, brows knit. "We're all desperate for something, Ciel. It's human nature. We're all desperate, you know, to fit in, to lose five more pounds, to get a promotion, to be in love. You're desperate to belong somewhere, to something, someone. I want you to bring that passion to our shoot, I want - I want that pain, and don't say you don't have it, because you do, I can see the way you carry it around, it's in your eyes."

Ciel's teeth come together and he stands up, pushing past Sebastian. "Well, if you think I'm so fucking desperate, why did you offer me this job?"

"Because of that right there," Sebastian says, pointing his finger at Ciel. "Because of that snappy little asshole that lives inside of you, Ciel. You come off as this meek, weak-willed, innocent, wet-behind-the-ears kid, but you're not. If you get riled up enough, you turn into this snarky, foul-mouthed little fucker that doesn't care, that's angry and filled with spite and rage, you're mad at the world, and that transfers so beautifully on camera." He cups Ciel's face, bending down a little so that they are at eye level. "I want to work with you, Ciel, more than anyone I've worked with before. And, if we're being completely honest with one another, I'd like to fuck you, Ciel, I really would, but I can't."

Ciel peels a strip of skin off his bottom lip, chews on it nervously before pulling it out of his mouth with his index finger and thumb, rolling it into a small ball. "Fine," Ciel murmurs, wiping his mouth across his sleeve. Blood seeps into the heather grey fabric, and he breathes out, like his body is deflating, like everything is leaking out of him. "I think I should go home," he says, quietly, looking up at Sebastian, who nods, mouthing  _yeah_ into the air between them, and he leads Ciel back into the elevator, who leaves part of himself and part of his heart in Sebastian's bedroom. 

-

"What did you like about  _Lolita?"_ Sebastian asks when they're in the car, heat cranked up a little too high, but Ciel doesn't mind. "I mean, it's a graphic tale of how a man abuses a twelve year old up until she's eighteen. Don't get me wrong, it's beautifully written, but what's your favorite part?"

Ciel hums in his throat, inhaling. "My favorite part is when Humbert's standing on the hill, right after he kills Quilty, and he's listening to the children play in the town below, listening to them laughing and screaming and having fun - and he realizes he'll never hear Lolita like that again. He stole her childhood from her, and that moment, is him realizing it. It always breaks my heart - I know you aren't supposed to feel bad for Humbert, but in that moment, he just seems so human."

Sebastian bounces his head in a nod, mirroring the hum. "My favorite part is when he goes to see Dolly, when she's living with Richard, and she's all pregnant and pale, and he wants nothing more than to take her back, take her away, but he says, 'I could not kill her, of course, as some have thought. You see, I loved her. It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight,' and it's so beautiful and tragic, for him to be so maliciously in love with her."

"She had never called me honey before," Ciel murmurs, closing his eyes.

"And the rest is rust and stardust," Sebastian volleys back, earning a soft chuckle from Ciel. "You're a very interesting person, Ciel, much more interesting than most of my models. Many of them are vain, vapid creatures. with nothing interesting to say. They're just, pretty faces, soft bodies, pink mouths." He stops the car in front of Ciel's flat building, turning to look at Ciel. 

Ciel smiles, eyes gleaming in the bright streetlights outside. "Well, it's a good thing that I'm so interesting, then, huh?" He pushes the door open, peeks his head back in when he climbs out. "Goodnight, Sebastian."

Sebastian's lips curl into a smirk, and he nods his head briefly. "Goodnight, Ciel."


	4. sexual fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciel goes back to class, and they go over the shoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this chap took a lil bit longer to get out, i passed out at work the other day and had to look after myself. hope you're all not too mad at me.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

"All right, settle down, please." Sebastian stands at the head of the room, wearing a navy blue, fisherman-knit sweater with a white t-shirt beneath, a pair of black jeans, and black sneakers. "You all remember Ciel, correct? He's going to be in our class from now on, as a helper for me. Sometimes he'll stand in as a model, but mostly, he'll just sit behind my desk and look nice." He turns his head to sneak a wink at Ciel, who has to bite his lip to keep from giggling. "Okay, everyone, go get your cameras out. I've been studying your rule-of-thirds photographs, and some of you could use some work - also, Mr. Phipps and Mr. Grey, you two cannot just keep taking pictures of one another and expect me to be okay with it."

Ciel chuckles as Sebastian comes behind the desk, taking a seat beside him. "Let them have fun," Ciel murmurs, nudging Sebastian's bicep with his shoulder. "I mean, you were their age many, many, many, many, many years ago, and I'm sure that you did stupid things with your friends." He reaches over for Sebastian's coffee mug, taking a small sip from it. 

"Thank you for calling me old," Sebastian retorts, pulling the mug from Ciel's pale fingers, setting it back down on the table. "You look - very much like a university student today." His eyes roam over Ciel's attire: faded blue jeans with rips in both of the knees, an oversized black hoodie that he'd purchased from the football club in sixth form, and a red beanie tugged over his hair. "It suits you, is what I mean to say."

Ciel lifts his eyebrows with a little scoff, looking at the students as they laugh and play with one another, taking pictures of each other, of tiles on the floor, of various things around the room. "They all really seem to like you," he murmurs, leaning back in his chair, putting his feet up on Sebastian's desk. "I guess they don't know the real sadistic, erotic you," he says, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Sebastian's eyes go wide, and he coughs into his coffee, splattering it everywhere. "Christ, kid, look what you did!" he says loudly, upstarting from his seat to grab some tissues, dabbing at his sweater, fingers curled around its bottom. From where he stands, Ciel can see where the white shirt beneath has ridden up, displaying Sebastian's smooth, pale skin, just above his hipbone. "I can assure you," Sebastian murmurs, sitting back down, "that they don't need to know about that. I keep my two work lives very separate from one another, Ciel."

"I suppose I should do the same," Ciel says, slipping his arms behind his head, keeping an eye on Sebastian. "But, I would like to discuss my shoot before I'm your age."

Sebastian licks his lips, taking another mouthful of coffee. "It just so happens that I happen to have photographs in my bag, but we should probably wait until the children are gone - Joker, I already told you to stop climbing on the cabinets." He stands up, arms crossed over his chest. "Kids, if you don't want to take my class seriously, I'll just tell the center that no one really cares for photography and have it shut down. Do you want that?"

A cacophony of groans and  _no's_ echo around the room, and Joker gets down from the top of the cabinet, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry, sir. I'll get back to work."

Sebastian sits back down, running his hands through his hair. "I swear, every time I come into this room I get a year older."

"You should probably leave then, you'll be dead by Tuesday," Ciel teases, leaning in a bit closer to Sebastian than he should be. "I suppose we could talk about my fears and limits while the students are working," he proposes, batting his eyelashes at Sebastian. "If I can't see the pictures, I'd just really like to talk about that - I actually enjoyed the shoot."

Pursing his lips, Sebastian looks at Ciel, leaning back in his chair, studying him. "You cried," he murmurs, smirking. "I think it may have been the first time that someone's actually cried before. No, scratch that, never mind, Ran-mao cried when I - whatever. You don't need to know. You'll learn soon enough." He lets out a sigh, still studying Ciel. "You look like the kind of kid that's afraid of the dark, or of spiders, or heights, or something else common like that."

"I'm not afraid of the dark," Ciel hisses back, leaning forward again, "I'm not a child!"

"Could have fooled me," Sebastian mutters, a smile coloring his tone, "you're about the size of an eight year old."

Ciel shoves at Sebastian's shoulder, jostling the older man. "I'm being serious! I really want to talk about this - I want to start doing this job as quickly as I can, and as well as I can. I told you that I'd prove you wrong, and I still intend to do it!" His cheeks are warm with feigned upset, and the way Sebastian tilts his head, eyes glinting garnet in the lightning of the room, is so fucking enthralling that it takes everything in Ciel's body to keep from crawling into his lap again, needy and wet-mouthed.

"All right, all right," Sebastian says with a chuckle, pulling out a notebook from a drawer in the desk. He writes Ciel's name in a pretty scrawl at the top of the page, and then draws a line straight down the middle, titling one column  _fears,_ and the other column  _limits/rules._ He lets out a sigh, looks at Ciel expectantly. "Okay, start off with the fears. But, keep in mind that whatever you tell me, I'm going to potentially use them as a factor in the shoots."

Ciel swallows hard, nods. "I'm afraid of loud noises," he starts off, "like thunderstorms, metal hitting concrete ground, anything like that, it makes me nervous. Um, I'm - I'm afraid of having all my senses taken away, you know? Like, uh, in one of those sensory deprivation tanks? Not being able to see anything or do anything or control anything - I don't like that." He glances over to see Sebastian scribbling quickly, his handwriting suddenly too messy to read. "I'm afraid of abandonment, like, being completely alone, by myself, it freaks me out." He licks his lips, wracking his brain for anything at all. "I'm afraid of the ocean, and of any kind of bug that flies or jumps or bites, and I hate seeing cars abandoned on the side of the road with no one in them, and I-"

"I think that's enough, kid," Sebastian murmurs, a gentle smile on his face. "Now, what about your limits? Do you have rules, anything you're absolutely not comfortable with me doing?"

Nodding, Ciel takes a shaky breath in. "Uh, I don't want you to hit me, or anything, not in the face, at least. I don't want you to burn me, or do anything with fire, or try to stab me or cut me open or anything like that."

Sebastian nods, reading aloud as he writes, "no... maiming... or dis...figurement... of any... kind." He smiles, looks up at Ciel. "Anything else? Don't worry, I'm not going to tie you to a crane and hang you over a tank of piranhas or anything. I just want to make sure that I don't do to make you uncomfortable, or to make you upset with me in any way." He shrugs one shoulder, making a sound in the back of his throat. "Well, I want you upset, but I want it to be that feisty upset, you know, the fiery little devil that lives in your heart."

"I guess you'll just have to say some things that should piss me off," Ciel says, crossing his arms. "For example, you could mention that I'm a failed university dropout, or that all my friends hate me, or that if my parents were alive, they'd probably be disappointed in how I've turned out."

Sebastian shakes his head, mouth soft. "No, I'm not going to do anything like that. I'll just... do what I did the first time, except, maybe with a little less praise, and a little more embarrassment, how does that sound?"

Ciel's lips spread into a grin, and he sets his feet back on the desk. "It sounds horribly wonderful."

-

There are ten photographs spread out on the table in front of Ciel. He's sitting down in a chair, while Sebastian hovers over him, dangerously close, pointing out certain things in each picture. His index finger lingers on the first photograph, directing Ciel's attention to his own face. 

"Look here, Ciel. Look at your eyes. You can see how uncomfortable you are in the first picture. It's only there in your body slightly, you see," he says, finger sliding down Ciel's body on the photograph, stopping at his shoulders. "You can see it prominently in the pull of your arms and shoulders, even though your hands were tied behind your back." He traces Ciel's collarbone in the next photograph; Ciel is overtly aware of his presence. "You're trying your best to do what I say, but you still haven't - you haven't figured out how to let go."

He moves over to one of the photographs in the middle; Ciel's cheeks are flushed red, his chest dotted with patches of strawberry, eyes beginning to go wet. "Here is where you begin to get upset with me, see the look in your eyes? You're angry, but you can also see the - how should I put it? - sexual desire, sexual fantasies that are nearly running rampant behind your eyelashes." He looks at Ciel, head tilted down towards him. "And this one," he continues, moving to the last photograph on the table, fingers long and lingering against the glossy surface, "is my favorite."

Heat gathers in Ciel's cheeks at the mention of his  _sexual desires, fantasies_ but just the same he slides his attention over to where Sebastian is pointing, and sucks in a breath through his teeth.

The last picture is of Ciel, tears streaming down his face, cock the same color red as his cheeks and chest, straining taught against his stomach. "Look at you," Sebastian breathes, finger tracing the spit bubbling in the corners of Ciel's mouth, dancing across his teary eyes. "It's visceral, Ciel - you can feel your anger, can feel your hatred towards me in that moment. I went from praising you and coaxing you into comfort, to teasing you relentlessly, and look what it got us." He kneels down next to the chair, one hand on Ciel's knee. "It's beautiful, Ciel, absolutely fucking breathtaking." 

Ciel picks up the last photograph with trembling fingers, voice soft as a whisper. "That's me?" he asks quietly, incredulously, looking up at Sebastian, who smiles, nodding his head firmly.

"Yeah, kid. That's you. Imagine what else we could do, you know, with any given amount of time or tools or, or area. We can do  _anything,_ Ciel, anything at all, and there will always be people that will eat it up and buy it and tell their friends about it, and you know why?"

Ciel blinks a few times, unable to look at anything else but Sebastian. "Because it's good jerkoff material?"

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head minutely. "No, because it's art, because it makes them feel something." He taps both of his index fingers against the first and last pictures and draws them together, side by side. "You look at these two, and you tell me how differently they make you feel. I want to hear your honest opinion, so forget that it's you - completely remove yourself from your own frame of mind, okay?"

"The first one makes me... feel nervous," Ciel murmurs, tracing his own features, but they don't feel like they belong to him anymore. He has suddenly become a blur of sex and colors, has become a blend of cold and hot, of fear and anger, of passion and heat. "It has a skittish feel to it, you know, like a wild animal? They freeze if you look them, and even if you look away, sometimes, they keep standing there, staring at you, making sure you're not going to betray them with another look." He swallows hard, moves to the second one. "This one is... I don't even know. It's sexy, but I'm so angry. I'm angry looking at, because I remember what you said, and what you were doing, and there wasn't anything that I could do to control the situation, and it pisses me off!"

Ciel only realizes that he's yelling, hands balled into fists against the table, when Sebastian lets out a loud _whoop!_ and plucks Ciel out of his seat, spinning the smaller boy around. "See, Ciel?! That's what I want! That's the gusto that I'm looking for! I want you to get mad, and I want you to get angry with me, regardless of what's going on, because you will never be in control of the situation, remember? I call all the shots, I hold all the cards, and I always will, for as long as we do this." 

"You've said that before," Ciel murmurs, looking back at the pictures. "God, I can't believe that's really me."

"I want to give you one hundred pounds per shoot, per hour."

Ciel looks up at Sebastian, brows knit, mouth wrinkled with confusion. "Come again? I think I misheard you. Did you just say  _one hundred pounds_ per shoot,  _per hour?"_ When Sebastian nods, Ciel feels the ground sway beneath him. "That's insane, Sebastian, that's absolutely crazy, you know that right? I don't deserve that kind of money."

"Yes, you do," Sebastian says, squatting down so that he can look up at Ciel, arms balanced across his knees. "You deserve that and more, Ciel, hell - the more we do these shoots, the more that I might pay you. You photograph so beautifully, Ciel, and I want your payment to reflect that." He tilts his head to the left, still staring up at Ciel. "You've got something great here, Ciel - and I want to ride this out for as long as we can, you know? I want to push the limits of this kind of modeling. I want it to be so controversial that people show up to my flat and riot." He sighs. "I wanna do something, with you. I think we're gonna do amazing things together, Ciel."

He stands, dusts off his jeans, and walks back over to his desk, rifling through his messenger bag. "All right, I'm shooting Hannah tomorrow, but I have an open spot on Wednesday, say around, ten? Does that sound good to you?"

"Why do you always do the shoots so late at night?" Ciel asks, getting up to lean on Sebastian's desk, one brow raised.

Sebastian scoffs, taking a seat. "Like I said before, Ciel, I try my damnedest to keep my two work lives separate - the morning is for teaching, and the night is for photography. I use the afternoon as a transitional phase, relaxing, looking over the students work, and the models work, treating myself to lunch, if I think I've earned it." He reaches over, touches briefly beneath Ciel's chin with his index finger. "Plus, everyone knows that everything is sexier at night, more... risque." 

Ciel lifts his eyebrows in mock disbelief. "Really? I thought that only old people and drunk teens fuck at night, so... you must fall in the first category, huh? Do you take Viagra on the regular, or do you have one of those pumps to help get it up?"

"Watch it, cheeky," Sebastian warns, "I'm your ride home; I could dump you off in the middle of Siberia and let you fend for yourself." He packs up his things, slings his messenger bag over his shoulder, and pats Ciel hard on the back. "C'mon, kid, let's go get lunch."

Ciel's face falls, chin jutted out. "Sebastian, you know that I can't pay-"

Sebastian turns to face Ciel as he walks out the door, a soft smile on his face. "It's my treat, Ciel. Seriously, don't worry about it."

-

The ramen shop is cool enough for Ciel to keep wearing his hoodie, but warm enough for Sebastian to take his sweater off. Ciel lets out a low wolf-whistle when they're taken to their seats, raising his brows jokingly. "Woah, why don't you model, and let me do all the camerawork?" he asks, earning an almost distasteful look from their server, and a low chuckle from Sebastian. 

"Mind yourself, Ciel," Sebastian murmurs, tapping his foot against Ciel's ankle beneath the table. "I'd like one order of the Shiromaru Classic, and one order of the Akamaru Tamago." He looks at Ciel, mouths  _trust me,_ and then looks back at the waiter. "Can we get an order of karaage first, though?"

Their waiter nods, muttering beneath his breath, and disappears into the main dining room, leaving the two of them alone. 

Ciel settles into the booth, arms behind his head. "You don't have to keep telling me to trust you, you know? I already trust you, and you haven't done anything to make me change my mind yet." He licks his bottom lip, eyes focused on the spot where Sebastian's shirt has been tugged down, the tender spot just above his collarbone. Ciel blinks away the thought of jumping across the table and sinking his teeth into Sebastian's flesh. "I've already said it, but if you want to hear it again: Sebastian Michaelis, I trust you, I believe you, I give practically my whole being to you."

Sebastian scoffs, brows raising as he smiles. "Practically your whole being? Why not just give all of it over to me?"

"Gotta leave the boys wanting something," Ciel murmurs, tapping his own foot against Sebastian's, warmth blooming through his chest. "I really wish I could repay you somehow," he says, fist resting against his cheek when he leans forward, elbow on the table, "you've been so kind to me, and I feel like I haven't done anything for you, to prove my gratefulness. Because I am, Sebastian, I am incredibly grateful - you know, you've welcomed me into your studio, into your classroom, into your home. I haven't done anything."

Sebastian leans forwards, arms folded on the table. "That's bullshit, Ciel, and you know it - thank you," he murmurs when their waiter drops a plate of what seems to be chicken in between them, "I've already told you that these shoots would be your way of repaying me." He fixes Ciel with a narrow-eyed look, freezing him on the spot. "I merely mentioned to a regular client of mine that I have my first ever  _male_ model, and he already wanted to buy prints of your photographs, without even seeing them!" Sebastian shoves a piece of karaage into his mouth, chews and swallows before he speaks again. "I'm telling you, Ciel, we are going to do amazing things together, you know, really pushing the limits of what I've done before."

Ciel picks up some food with his chopsticks, bringing it up to his mouth slowly. Sebastian's eyes follow the chicken, landing on Ciel's mouth. "You just have to trust me, Ciel. More than you've ever trusted anyone else before. I am going to be your church, and you are going to be my sinner. Your shoots will be me, cleansing you of everything you've done wrong in your life, because that's what it is for me. Every time I pick up the camera, I lose a bad bit from my past, have it replaced with an open-mouthed, writhing memory."

"Tell me about the first time you photographed a girl," Ciel murmurs as their waiter sets down two bowls in front of them, both of them filled to the brim with noodles and broth, various vegetables, slices of ham, but one of them has an egg in it. He watches Sebastian pull the egg one over to him, pushing the other towards Ciel. "Did you hear me?" he asks, stirring the noodles around, eyes locked on Sebastian.

Sebastian nods, dipping his head towards his bowl, slurping quietly. "I heard you," he says after his mouth is empty, leaning back in the booth. "I was twenty-four," he begins, motioning for Ciel to start eating, "and she was twenty-eight. I don't know her real name, but she called herself  _Beast._ She was beautiful, and I was absolutely terrified of her. She had... big curly black hair, and eyes like rubies, she was  _beautiful._ And I tied her up - it was shitty work, at best. But she just laughed and laughed and let me take as many pictures as I wanted, and after it was over, all of the pictures were blurry, because my hands were shaking so badly." He licks his lips, eats some more.

"I wish I could've seen you back then," Ciel murmurs, almost done with his food already. "I bet you were all tall, and skinny, with those eyes and that mouth - God, I bet that you got anyone you wanted. How lucky they were." His voice is soft, but piercing, and he sees Sebastian's jaw pulse in the restaurant's dim lighting. 

"We've been over this, Ciel. I don't fuck my models. What happened at my flat was a spur of the moment, impulsive thing, do you understand me? It cannot, and probably won't, happen again." His eyes are nearly black, and Ciel has to take in a shaky breath, look around the room to keep from crying. "Oh, shit, kid, I'm sorry. It came out meaner than I had intended. Look, all I'm saying is that, relationships and work get muddled. Everything suddenly becomes too much. Plus, you're still just - you're just a kid. You shouldn't be with some old man like me anyway."

Ciel grits his teeth together, shaking his head minutely. "It's fine," he says, sniffling, "I think I'd like to go home now."

Sebastian lets out a sigh. "All right, if that's what you want."

"It is."

-

Ciel doesn't speak when they get into the car. He is walled off, an ice prince trapped in a lair made of frozen slush and petty anger. He steals looks at Sebastian every once in a while, jotting down little bits about his face that he hadn't noticed before in a mental notebook, tracing the way that his hair curls around his ear, the slant of his nose, the crows feet around his eyes that deepen when he smiles.  _Fuck._

"Sorry," he says after a while, picking nervously at a hangnail. "I'm acting like a child, and you don't deserve that. You've been nothing but kind to me." He swallows hard, looks over at Sebastian when his car is stopped at a red light. "Forgive me?"

Sebastian breathes out a scoff, slips his hand behind Ciel's head and curls his fingers at the nape of his neck, squeezing gently. "Of course, kid. I forgive you."

The tips of his fingers are rough, calloused with years of pressing buttons, holding paintbrushes, other tactile things, and Ciel has to fight back the urge to shut his eyes, to lean into Sebastian's touch. Instead, he exhales, leans forward slightly so that Sebastian's hand slips off, slides back over to his own side of the car. "Good," he murmurs, "that's what I wanted." He inhales through his nose, glances over at Sebastian. "Would you like to come into my flat?" he asks, fingers curled into fists, nails biting bloody half-moons into his palms. "It's just - I've been in your flat, and learned about your life, so I just thought that maybe you would-"

"I'd like that," Sebastian murmurs, voice barely a whisper. 

They ride the rest of the way in silence, and Sebastian parks the car in front of Ciel's flat complex, a hand on the small of Ciel's back as they walk into the building, into the elevator, and up to Ciel's door. He fumbles with his keys for a moment, letting a soft, awkward laugh when he finally gets it, holding the door open for Sebastian.

"It's a little messy, but I hope you won't mind," Ciel says as Sebastian enters, a small smile on his face. 

"I love it," Sebastian replies quietly, walking down the hallway into Ciel's little sitting room, "it's absolutely you." He passes by the mantel and points at one of the few pictures Ciel has of Vincent and Rachel. "Are these your parents? They're beautiful - you look just like your mother." He turns to Ciel, smiling. "I wish I could've met them."

Ciel bites his bottom lip, glances at the ground. "I think they would've liked you, especially my mother. She used to take me to art museums as a child, and she would pick me up and point at different painting and tell me all about them, about what she thought they meant, about the artists, about the year it was made. She was a truly lovely woman."

Sebastian turns back around to the picture, running his fingers over Rachel's face. "What are their names?" he asks, voice so soft that Ciel has to take a deep breath in, teeth together.

"My mother's name is Rachel, and my father's name is Vincent." He swallows hard, stepping towards Sebastian. "I loved them, very much, with all my heart." Ciel drops his head, shoulders trembling with the treat of tears. "They would be so disappointed in what I've become," he says, sea-salt tears dripping down his cheeks. "And I wouldn't blame them. I'm a failure, I'm nothing that they would've wanted me to be."

Sebastian drops to his knees in front of Ciel, looking upwards at him like he's a saint, eyes wide and crimson in the light of Ciel's flat. "Don't say something like that, Ciel. They would be so proud of you for staying alive this long, for having the energy to keep going after what happened in university." He reaches up, strokes a tear off of Ciel's cheek. "You've got your whole life ahead of you, Ciel. You can do anything you want, anything at all." His lips curl into a smile, honest and genuine. "So what do you want to do?"

CIel sniffs, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I want to keep modeling for you."

"Then that's we'll do," Sebastian murmurs, standing up and patting the top of Ciel's head. "You're so hard on yourself, kid. Life isn't easy - it never is, unless you're born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but most of us don't have that luxury." His fingers curl behind Ciel's ear, tilting his head upwards so they make eye contact. "Just stick with me, okay, kid? I'll look after you, make sure that you're fed and clothed, and that you stay out of trouble. I know a lot of pretty boys like you that end up on the streets, end up in the hands of strangers."

_I want to be in your hands. I want to live in your hands._

Ciel swallows, nodding silently. "I'll do whatever you say," he says quietly, still staring up at Sebastian. 

_I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, and beyond that. To the moon and back. Out past the stars._

He clenches his teeth, breathing as softly as he can. "I'll do whatever you say," he repeats, hands curled into fists at his sides.

 _Across the ocean, across volcanoes, anywhere at all._ "I trust you," Ciel murmurs, nose flaring as he steps backward, dropping his eyes. "I believe you. With all my heart, I believe you."


	5. no angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciel has a little trouble being around Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaa i hope you all liked the last chapter!!!! i love u all very very much, thank you all for being so sweet and wonderful about my writing. also this one starts off......really spicy, so if youre not into it, just keep on scrollin
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Sebastian stands above Ciel, cock fat and heavy in his hand. "You've been a very, very bad boy lately, haven't you?" He lifts one eyebrow, looks down at Ciel, eyes ablaze. "I believe I asked you a question, Ciel, and you and I both know what happens when my questions go unanswered."

Spit dribbles around the ball gag that is popped into Ciel's mouth, sitting comfortably in front of his teeth, drool rolling down his chin. He mumbles something incoherent, struggling against his restraints. His wrists are tied tightly together, and his ankles are held together by a chain, black cuffs startling against his white skin.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian murmurs, head tilted to the left, "what did you say, sweetheart?" He reaches behind Ciel's head to undo the gag, his mouth shiny with spit. He pants hard as Sebastian steps backwards, hands moving back down to his cock. "That's two questions, Ciel. You're really looking to get in trouble with me tonight."

Ciel's crimson chest heaves as he struggles to raise his head enough to look up at Sebastian. "I've been a bad boy, Daddy," he says, voice harsh and hushed, tears beginning to well in his eyes. "I want to get in trouble with you." The tears continue to stream down his face as Sebastian hums in his throat and undoes Ciel's restraints, slowly, dangerously slow.

"I'll just have to punish you," Sebastian murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. Ciel's lips are salty and his tongue is soft, begging. "My desperate boy, such a bad boy. Do you know what happens to bad boys, Ciel?" There is a smile on his face as he climbs on top of Ciel, their noses brushing. "Bad boys get fucked until they can't stand anymore, you know that." He slips his hand around Ciel's throat, squeezes until he can feel the muscles and tendons in Ciel's neck stretch, his breathing coming out hot and quick, punctuated by weak little whines. "I'm going to fuck the bad out of you, baby."

Ciel sits up in bed, hand pressed against his chest. His heart is going a million miles an hour, and his boxers are sticky. "Shit," he curses beneath his breath as he yanks them past his knees and tosses them into the corner of his room, walking over to the bathroom, a hand in his hair. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" he asks the stale air around him before stepping into the shower, turning the water to the left until it is scalding, threatening to melt all of his sinful flesh off.

After his body is clean - he wants to scrub his brain out with bleach - and he has a cup of coffee, Ciel lets out a sigh, taking a seat on the couch. The clock on the wall reads eight-forty-five, meaning that Sebastian will be outside to pick him up any second - and he's still naked. "Fuck!"

Ciel scrambles to his bedroom, pulling on a pair of well-worn jeans and a plain white t-shirt, pulling a heavy black sweater over. He stops in the mirror, trying to make his still-wet hair not look like complete shit, and by the time he gets his shoes on, the door buzzes.  _Fuck me._ He takes a deep breath and presses the button with trembling fingers. "Yes?" he asks, trying to seem inconspicuous, even though he bloody well knows who it is.

"It's Sebastian, I'm here to pick you up," he says, even though he's been doing it for the past week.

Ciel lets go of the button, bangs his head lightly against the wall, and then presses it again. "I'll be down in a second," he warbles, doing his best to keep calm, practically running down the stairs to the complex's front door, where Sebastian is waiting - and Ciel could die. He could die right then and there. He could be struck by lightning and be incredibly thankful, because it would be a million times better than standing in front of Sebastian when he looks this fucking good.

He pulls the door open for Ciel, who slides past him, making an effort not to touch him in any way. If he touches Sebastian now, Ciel might as well just cum all over himself. 

"I picked you up some hot chocolate," Sebastian says as Ciel climbs into the passenger seat, pulling one of the cups from the cup holder, handing it over to Ciel. "It's white mocha flavored, I thought you would like it. I guess I just sort of assumed you liked sweet things."

 _I would drink sink water if you told me to. I would drink from a puddle like a dog if you told me to._ Ciel takes a sip, whipped cream and chocolate flooding his mouth. He hums in his throat, glances back at Sebastian, who, like always, is dicking with the radio. "It's good, thank you."

Sebastian lifts his eyes and smiles. "You've got whipped cream just there," he murmurs, leaning across the center console to swipe it off of Ciel's upper lip, and when he settles back into his seat, Sebastian licks it off, tongue ruby red and thick against his finger.

Ciel's teeth come together as he breathes out through his nose and does his best to fight the urge to jack off in Sebastian's car, to live out his wet dream from this morning.  _Where the fuck did that even come from?_ He shakes his head loosely, taking another sip of the hot chocolate. "What are you going to teach the students today?" he asks, trying to make light conversation, conversation that has nothing to do with cream, or jerking off, or how Sebastian is gonna tie Ciel up and fuck him-

"I'm thinking that I'll teach them shadow work today," Sebastian murmurs, backing out of the lot to Ciel's apartment. "Since you're so thin, and delicately boned, I figured you could, I don't know, get undressed to your boxers, lay across my desk, let them take pictures of your body in different angles."

Ciel swallows hard, lets an awkward laugh bubble up from his chest. "Isn't that... your job?" he asks, toes curling inside his shoes.

Sebastian grins, lets out a scoff. "No, Ciel, my job is to take pictures of you  _naked,_ not to take pictures of you in your boxers, surrounded by a cluster of twenty year olds that are wielding shitty point-and-shoots until I trust them with the big guns." He careens past Kings and pulls into a parking spot in front of the community center, pushing open his door. "The kids like you, you know. They think you're cute." He glances over briefly at Ciel, who is sipping at his hot chocolate while trying to get out of the car. "They're not wrong," he murmurs, voice a whisper, inaudible to Ciel.

They walk quickly up to Sebastian's class, and Ciel takes a seat at Sebastian's desk while he scuttles around the room, tidying up the camera containers, the SD card holders, rearranging everything so that it is _just so._  He pauses for a moment to rifle through his messenger bag, and pulls out a series of lanyards, each one with a clear square of plastic attached to the hook at the bottom.  

"What the fuck are those?" Ciel says with a laugh, upstarting from Sebastian's chair. "What - are they babies? Are you afraid that they'll get lost?" He makes a grab at a few them, giggling when Sebastian pulls them high above his head, way out of Ciel's short reach. "Not cool, stretch. If I was your height, I would put up a fight."

Sebastian leans down, a grin on his face, their noses nearly brushing. "If you were my height, I don't think I would have nearly as much fun with you," he murmurs, eyes glinting in the white lighting of the classroom, which Ciel has learned is something that Sebastian likes - bright, blinding lights, and teasing Ciel into a quivering mess without even meaning to. He steps backwards and hangs them on a hook beside the camera bin. "And no, I'm not afraid that they'll get lost. It's for when I send them out to do real world assignments, you know, figure out different kinds of lighting, the use of shadows, little things like that."

"So if they get lost, whoever finds them will know who to return them to," Ciel teases, leaping away from Sebastian's playful grab. "They're adults, Sebastian, they have IDs, and they probably know how to get back here." He perches on a table, watching Sebastian. "It's a nice gesture, however," he murmurs softly, voice incredibly gentle as he watches Sebastian, chewing on his bottom lip.

Sebastian glances up briefly, nods his head, a smile on his face. "Glad that you see my side of things," he murmurs, stepping over to Ciel, pinning him against the desk, his hands dangerously close to Ciel's ribs. "I've been thinking about our shoot tomorrow," he says, head tilted to the left - and God, Ciel could kiss him. Ciel could tangle his fingers into his hair and crawl inside his chest and live there, forever and always.

He swallows, mouth dry. "What were you thinking of?" His mind runs rampant with images, flitting past in flashes of black and gold, silver, blood red and snow white.

"I was thinking that we'd try out some rope work this time, maybe a little of metal here and there?" His eyes glint dangerously, and Ciel has to hold on tightly to the side so that he doesn't crash onto the floor and  _accidentally_ suck Sebastian's dick. "What do you think of that?"

Ciel racks his brain for something to say, something that isn't along the lines of  _fuck me til I cry, til I can't breathe, tie me up and let me struggle._ He inhales. "I think that sounds nice," he whispers. If he leans forward, their lips will touch, and as much as he wants to, Ciel knows that he can't, he can't kiss or fuck or fall in love with Sebastian.

-

The kids surround Ciel in a circle, all flashing and fidgeting with their cameras. Ciel lays on his back on Sebastian's desk, nearly naked, save for his boxers, arms hanging limply at his side, one leg bent at the knee while the other hangs off of the desk. 

"If you want him to move, don't be afraid to ask, kids. If you ever want to get into shooting models, you have to be comfortable with directing them." Sebastian stands off to the side, arms crossed over his chest. "Ciel, turn over onto your side, so they can get the different shadows of your body." He circles his index finger around in the air, and Ciel complies, turning over with one arm tucked beneath his head, the other dangling in front of him. 

Sebastian steps forward, trailing his finger along Ciel's bones, eyes focused on the students. "See, kids? The shadows here are completely different than they were when he was laying on his back." He glances at Ciel, mouths,  _you okay?_

Ciel nods, trying his best to keep his breathing even. He tries his best to not think about Sebastian's hands against his skin, his hands sliding down into his boxers, jerking him off until he cums, white hot, in front of God and everyone-

"Ciel, are you all right?"

A gentle voice catches his attention, and Ciel raises his eyes to see Sullivan, her dark brows drawn together in worry. "Your chest is all red, and it looked like you were in pain," she says quietly, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Ciel stammers for words, silencing when Sebastian presses the back of his hand to Ciel's forehead. "Shit, kid, you're burning up." He pushes up his sleeves, turns to the students. "Sorry, children, but I'm afraid we're going to have this class short today. I promise I'll make up for it tomorrow, but as for now, you are all free to leave. Please put your things where they belong, and have a nice rest of your day, drive safe, stay warm!" He waggles his fingers after the students that exit the room, and then turns around to face Ciel, hands on his hips. "Never pull that kind of shit in my classroom again," he says, pointing an accusatory finger in Ciel's direction.

"What - what are you talking about?" Ciel asks, playing dumb as he pulls his clothes back on.

Sebastian lets out a scoff, shaking his head. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, kid. I told you that we have to keep the two work lives completely separate, and what you just did was pushing the limits. You seriously can't lay on a table and have a bunch of twenty years olds take pictures of you without needing to get your rocks off?" He rubs at the back of his neck. "Look, when you're in this classroom, you're Ciel Phantomhive, nice, sweet, albeit awkwardly nervous uni dropout, someone that the students like. When we're in my studio, you're mine. Mine to position, control, command, whatever,  _mine._ Am I understood?"

Ciel licks his bottom lip, nodding. "Yes sir," he murmurs, mind running rampant with the fleeting images of his dream, "you're understood."

-

"I'm such an idiot," Ciel groans, heels of his hands pressed firmly into his eye sockets. He sits on Alois' couch, knees drawn up to his chest, a mug of coffee perched precariously beside him. "Like, more of an idiot than usual - I can't keep this up. I  _need_ him to fuck my brains out, Alois, you don't understand how bad I need it. I just need one good fuck, just to get it out of my system, and then we can go back to normal."

Alois' blond brows draw together, mouth wrinkling with distaste. "Ciel, you've never been the type to hit it and quit it," he says, folding his arms over his chest, "and you definitely wouldn't be willing to leave a hot piece of ass like Sebastian Michaelis. I've seen him, Ciel. He's definitely your type, all tall, dark, and handsome - and as soon as you two fucked, you'd fall head over heels in love with him, and probably ruin everything and be out of a job."

Ciel throws his head back with a groan, jostling his mug. "Shit!" he cries, pulling it out of harms way, and sets it on the table. "It doesn't matter anyway, because he doesn't fuck his models. He told me that already. After we made out."

"You made out with him?" Alois leaps from the chair he's been curled in over to the couch, grabbing Ciel's face in his hands. "Kiss me!" he shouts, trying to bring Ciel's head closer to his. "Kiss me now!" He tries to bring Ciel's mouth towards his, Ciel shrieking with laughter and pretending to gag.

"No!" Ciel cries, worming his hands up against Alois' chest in an attempt to push him away, a smile on his face. "I wouldn't kiss you even - even if you were the last person on Earth and you had on some life-saving lip balm!" He screams again, sides beginning to ache with laughter. "Get away from me!"

Alois rolls off of the couch and onto the ground, chest heaving. "I'm too old for this shit," he pants, one arm tossed up over his eyes. "I can't believe that  _you_ made out with  _Sebastian Michaelis._ You know what he does - what did it feel like?" He sits up, legs crossed Indian-style, oceanic eyes wide. "Did he use tongue? Did he bite you? Make you bleed?"

"We're the same age, you muffin, and no, because he's not a vampire," Ciel hisses, reaching over Alois' head for his coffee cup. He lets out a sigh, takes a drink. "I can't believe I'm telling you about this. Yes, he used tongue, and, my God, Al, it was... incredible. His mouth was so warm and he was so gentle but also so firm... It was unlike any other kiss I've had before." His head falls back against the arm of the couch. "I had a wet dream about him this morning."

Alois shrieks, standing up on the couch, feet on either side of Ciel's legs. "No the fuck you didn't!" he shouts, kneeling so that he's straddling Ciel's hips, hands curled into his hair. "Oh, Ciel, you have to get fucked by someone - anybody! Wet dreams are a sign that something terrible is going to happen! You know, you could accidentally trip and fall on his dick, or something."

"This is serious!" Ciel yells, pushing Alois off of him and onto the floor. "I don't know what to do, Alois! He's just so sexy, and he, like,  _oozes_ power. I have a shoot with him tomorrow, and I don't know what he's gonna do, but I just want him to fuck my brains out; I don't care if he has me drawn and quartered immediately after. I just want it to happen."

Alois sits up, one brow raised. "You know, I know a guy that would probably fuck you. I fooled around with him for a little while after I broke up with Claude."

Ciel groans, letting his head drop back again. "I don't want your sloppy seconds," he says, sighing loudly. "I just want Sebastian to fuck me, that's all I want. I don't want a relationship, I don't want to move in with him or anything. Just one fuck, that's it."

"Ciel, honey," Alois begins, shaking his head in disbelief, "I've known you since we were kids, and you've dated, remind me, how many people? I think it's been... two, and you've been alive for twenty-three years? You fall in love so fast, babe, and if you fuck Sebastian, you're gonna fall in love with him, and you and I both know that." He pats Ciel's hand. "You fall in love with people over the littlest things, and I know that you can't just... tuck away your feelings like the rest of us." 

He tilts his head, brows drawn. "He would just fuck you and then cast you aside, and I think that would crush you."

Ciel shakes his head minutely, eyes on the ground. "Sebastian - he's not that kind of a guy. I know him better than you think, Alois - I know about his last relationship. It didn't end well, and I don't think that he would do anything to purposely hurt me."

Alois climbs back up onto the couch, grabbing Ciel squarely by the shoulders. "Ciel, I love you, with all my heart, but you're being fucking stupid right now. You only know what he's told you, you only know how you've seen him act. He could be completely different behind the scenes." He shakes Ciel gently, eyes clear and earnest. "I don't want to see you get hurt, and if you try anything with Sebastian, you're just going to get your hopes up, and everything's gonna fall apart in front of you."

"You're not my mother," Ciel replies quietly, eyes downcast. "You don't have to protect me."

"Someone has to," Alois says, voice just as quiet as Ciel's. "And, if you ever get to know Sebastian in a, uh, a Biblical sense, just... be safe, and call me immediately after so I can hear all of the grisly details."

Ciel swallows hard. He knows Sebastian in other ways, ways that aren't Biblical, ways that probably don't feel as good as Sebastian's lips ghosting along his chest beneath the sheets, nails digging and clawing, his mouth next to Ciel's ear as he murmurs endless strings of praise - but he knows how Sebastian's hands feel against his skin in different scenarios, the way his voice dips and rises when he's taking pictures, the way his lips curl up at the edges just before he smiles.

"I will," Ciel murmurs, drawing his knees up to his chest.

If Sebastian is a church, then fucking him will most definitely feel like salvation.

-

Ciel is asleep on the couch when the door buzzes. He'd fallen asleep in his clothes, body tangled in a blanket that he'd pulled from his bed before crashing on the couch, pretending to be watching something on television with his eyes closed. 

He blinks, rubs at his blurry eyes. The digital clock that sits on the counter glares at him in angry red numbers,  _two-thirty-seven in the morning._ The door buzzes again, and Ciel yawns, pulling his sleep logged body off of the couch and over to the intercom. "Hello?" he asks the speaker, voice fuzzy with sleep.

"Hee-eeeee-eey, kitten," a voice slurs, and Ciel's brows draw together.

He brings the blanket tighter around his shoulders, squinting. "Sebastian?" he says timidly, attempting to stifle a yawn. "'s'at you?"

Someone snorts in the speaker and he can hear Sebastian chuckle drunkenly, making a loud  _shooshing_ sound. "Ye-eah, it's me. Look, my - shut up, Lau! - my flat's too far away, and I was wondering if I could crash here? It'd just -  fuck, shit - just be me... no one else... Please, sweetheart?" His voice is like honey, even as he slurs loudly and calls Ciel embarrassing pet names that have him crossing his legs. 

"That's fine, come up," Ciel murmurs, buzzing the door open. He tries to hurriedly clean up the sitting room before Sebastian arrives, knocking on the front door. Ciel skids to a stop on mismatched socked feet, yanking the door open, revealing a grinning, red-cheeked Sebastian. He's wearing the remains of a suit, his tie loosened considerably and limply around his neck. "Christ," Ciel murmurs, stepping backwards, "how much have you had to drink?"

Sebastian steps into the doorway, reaching forward to grab Ciel's shoulder for support. "Enough," he murmurs, head swaying and bobbing. "You look tired," he says, squinting his eyes, leaning in so close that his nose brushes Ciel's. "Mm, warm." He steps forward, fitting his arms around Ciel's neck, nearly dragging him to the ground.

"You're - ugh, too heavy!" Ciel gripes, shutting the door with his foot, walking backwards towards the couch with Sebastian still curled around his neck. He's slightly disappointed that Sebastian is a sloppy drunk, not a suave, sexual drunk like Ciel had anticipated. "You're an adult, for crying out loud," he mutters, attempting to help Sebastian lay down on the couch, only to go crashing down with him, their chests touching. He yelps, trying to pull away, but Sebastian holds tight, the point of his chin dug into the top of Ciel's head. "Not to mention that we have class tomorrow."

"We can - can sleep in," Sebastian murmurs over the soft din of the television, "I'll... I'll take you to class tomorrow." His breathing slows to a pace that Ciel could easily follow, if his heart wasn't going a million miles an hour. He lays awake, trapped in Sebastian's tight grip, trying his best to relax, to not think about the warmth of Sebastian's body beneath his, and he's definitely not thinking of the feeling of Sebastian's cock through his slacks, flaccid but still painfully prominent. 

When he finally does fall asleep, Ciel has dream after dream of Sebastian's fingers gripping tight into his hips, mouths open and panting, teeth glinting like slivers of moonlight biting into alabaster flesh, voices pitching and keying, toes curling with whines, bodies rocking relentlessly into one another until fireworks pop in Ciel's vision and-

"Ciel, it's time to get up," Sebastian murmurs, combing his fingers through Ciel's hair, which is, undoubtedly, sticking up in all kinds of directions. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I made eggs and coffee. If you want anything else, just let me know."

Ciel gasps in a breath, drawing the blanket tight around his body. His jeans are impossibly tight, his body crusty with cum beneath. Is he a fourteen-year-old boy who just figured out how to masturbate for the first time? He shakes his head mutely, mouth slightly open. "No, no, I'm - that's fine, thank you. Just... just let me go change," he gets out, keeping the blanket draped around his body, safe from prying eyes and from Sebastian's ever watchful gaze.

He scrambles to his bedroom, peels off his clothes and slips into the shower to repeat the ritualistic scalding and scrubbing of his body. He comes out, shiny and pink, and dresses quickly in a pair of shapeless, grey sweatpants, and a sweater he'd swiped from Lizzie's annoying older brother, Edward, years ago.

Sebastian is sitting at the breakfast bar when Ciel slinks out of his bedroom, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. He turns around to look at Ciel, brows drawn together in befuddlement. "I've never seen you dress like that before," he murmurs, lips tugging up into a small smile, "you look very comfy." 

Ciel sighs loudly, takes at seat beside Sebastian, running a hand through his damp hair. "I am," he murmurs, taking the plate of eggs that Sebastian pushes towards him, "and how are you not completely hungover? You smelled like a mini-bar last night." His eyes flick over Sebastian, and Ciel is surprised to see him dressed neatly, in a pair of jeans that are faded softly at the knee, and a mustard yellow sweater with its sleeves pushed up to his forearms. "Where did you get those clothes? Last night, you were-"

"Bard dropped my car off this morning, and Mey-rin was kind enough to pack me a change of clothes." He chuckles sheepishly, takes a drink of coffee from one of Ciel's favorite mugs, a thick-handled, white mug with a cutesy type rainbow drawn onto the side; Lawrence had bought it for him on their one-month-anniversary, a little trinket that Ciel holds near and dear to his heart, even now. "I'm sorry that you had to see me like that, last night. It was highly unprofessional, and very embarrassing."

Ciel hums against his fork, nods. "You didn't answer my first question," he says, reaching over for Sebastian's cup of coffee, a smirk on his face. "How are you not a sloppy, staggering mess right now? I'm usually off my ass by two shots."

Sebastian shrugs, taking the mug back to drink out of it. "I've been drinking for quite a while, kid. I may get unbearably obnoxious when I drink, but, I can usually stand my ground in the morning."

"Were you celebrating something?" Ciel asks, tapping his fork listlessly against his plate.

Sebastian sips at his coffee, humming against the mug. "I was," he says after he swallows - Ciel could sink his teeth into Sebastian's Adam's apple. "One of my private collectors has published one of my shoots into a fetish magazine. He picked a few of Angela's pictures and ran them, even though she no longer works for me." He tilts his head, a fist beneath his chin. "Perhaps that could be you someday." He pauses briefly, scratches at the back of his neck. "I hope I didn't do anything untoward to you last night."

"You called me sweetheart, and kitten," Ciel says quietly, slipping off the stool. He pads into the kitchen, a soft smile on his face when Sebastian groans loudly, resting his head against the bar. "I didn't mind it very much, however," he murmurs, rinsing off his hands. "You were very kind to me, unlike usual."

Sebastian lifts his head, eyes wider than Ciel has ever seen before. "Unlike usual? I think I've been very kind to you - I gave you a job, I pay you out of my own pocket, I drive you places all the time. I've been nothing but nice to you, Ciel." His brows dip. "Do you really think I'm unkind to you?" His voice is soft, so gentle that Ciel wants to wrap his arms around Sebastian's waist and fall asleep in his arms again, but he doesn't.

Instead, Ciel lets out a sigh, leaning back against the sink counter, head hung low. "No," he says, biting his bottom lip. "You've been very kind to me, Sebastian. I'm very grateful, and very lucky, to have met you when I did." He pads back over to the bar, takes his seat beside Sebastian. "Thank you, for everything you've done so far."

"Anything for you, Ciel," Sebastian murmurs, slipping his hand to the nape of Ciel's neck. He squeezes gently, and Ciel has to remind himself to breath, calmly,  _in, out, in, out, in out in out inoutinoutinoutinout._

Ciel knows now that fucking Sebastian will feel like salvation, because his hand against the back of Ciel's neck feels like absolution.


	6. daddy issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have the second shoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooooo i hope you're all doing well!! i also hope you all enjoyed the last chapter because i worked really hard on getting it out.
> 
> i really want a peanut butter sandwich and a bowl of cheerios but im not allowed to bc im on a special diet, so everyone go home and eat either a pb sandwich or some cheerios for me, in my honor. unless youre allergic to all that - then we can suffer together.
> 
> also -- i came out to my parents as the big ole bi that i am. happy pride guys.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Ciel's balls have shrunk back up inside his body. He stands naked as the day he was born in Sebastian's studio, completely unsure of what to do with his hands, or his body, or in general. He's not nervous, per se - more like absolutely scared out of his fucking mind. 

Sebastian had immediately commanded him to strip upon entering, ordered him to stretch, get his muscles warmed up, despite the unusually frigid temperature inside the studio, and had ran off to the creepy-yet-mysterious side room that Ciel has never been in. He's been fucking around in there for nearly fifteen minutes, and Ciel has done all of the stretches he'd learned in sports, so now he's beginning to get antsy. 

He considers pressing his ear to the door, but just as he's gathering up the courage to do it, Sebastian bursts out of the room, armed with a box of things that glint and gleam and strike fear into Ciel's heart. "What... what is all that stuff?" he asks timidly, pointing at the box, trying to pretend that he's not naked - or that Sebastian is naked with him.  _Bad idea. No boners. Bad boner._

"Just a little box of the things I first experimented with when I was getting into the fetish world," Sebastian says, shaking the box gently. "There's all kinds of stuff in here: handcuffs, ball gags, bit gags, blindfolds, earmuffs, cock rings, you get the idea." He smiles at Ciel, as if he's a normal thirty-seven year old, not standing in front of an ass-naked young male he's only known for a few weeks. "Want to take a look, see what you like?" 

He sets the box on the ground and kneels next to Ciel, commenting on every piece he picks up. 

Ciel picks up a pair of handcuffs first, letting them dangle from his index finger. "I've had fun with those," Sebastian murmurs, a fond smile on his face as if its some kind of pet. "I'm not quite sure I want to handcuff you, however, considering that we tied your hands behind your back in the last shoot. Like I said before, I'm leaning towards actual rope-work, but I just want to let you pick out a few accessories."

Next, Ciel gingerly picks up a metal rod, which Sebastian quickly (but gently, as always) pulls from Ciel's fingers, his cheeks coloring. "No, you don't want that one. Trust me. You should probably wash your hands. Like, right now."

After his hands are clean, Ciel pulls out a black silicone ball with straps attached to it, and his mouth goes dry. "Ball gag," Sebastian says, eyes glinting. "It's very simple, but it makes for very pretty pictures, lots of shiny mouths, red cheeks because you're breathing through your nose - would you like to use it?"

"Yes, sir," Ciel says, remembering Sebastian's rules - he desperately wants to be a good boy, wants to show Sebastian how good he can be. "I would like to use it. Very much."

Sebastian scoffs, stands up, dusting off his knees. He's wearing the same white button-down that he'd had on during their first shoot, but there is something different about it this time. Ciel can't decide if it's the swell of Sebastian's biceps, or the fact that he's naked and he's been masturbating like a twelve year old for the past few days, or the fact that he could just say  _fuck it_ and suck Sebastian off right then and there-  _BAD! BAD CIEL! STOP IT, KNOCK THAT OFF. NO BONERS. THINK OF GROSS THINGS. A CUP OF FORGOTTEN TEA ON THE WINDOWSILL. THE TIME YOU WALKED IN ON ALOIS AND CLAUDE FUCKING. EGGS._

"Ciel?" Sebastian's soft voice cuts through Ciel's rampant thoughts, and he whirls around, hands empty, useless at his sides. "Are you still with me?"

Ciel swallows hard, eyes darting all around the room. "Yes! Yes, sir, I'm still here - still with you. Sorry. I got... distracted." He moves over to the couch that Sebastian pats gently on, takes a seat. He wants to speak, wants to ask what Sebastian's going to do to him, but it's against the rules, and Ciel doesn't want to disappoint Sebastian.

"All right," Sebastian murmurs, stretching out a good length of soft looking, bright red rope in his hands. "You have to stay very still for me, understand? Don't move, don't talk. I'm going to tie you from neck to waist, and I'm going to tie your arms to your side by your wrists. I'll leave enough space for it to be comfortable, but, just like with the first shoot, if you feel any numbness, any tingling, see any discoloration, I give you the right to break the  _no talking_ rule. But, since you'll be gagged, we'll need a nonverbal symbol. Tap your leg three times if anything begins to go numb or tingle." He looks Ciel in the eyes, jaw clenched. "The models' safety always comes before anything else - regardless if the shoot is finished or not."

Ciel nods his head almost imperceptibly, tongue working uselessly against the backs of his teeth. He squeezes his legs together when Sebastian pulls him into a standing position, looping the rope around his neck, making sure the ends are even. He tries to think about anything else, anything at all, because if he focuses on the way that Sebastian's hands feel against his bare skin, he'll cum - unprovoked, everywhere, with no prompting, just  _splurt_ everywhere all over the studio, all over Sebastian.

He thinks about the provinces in England, thinks about the color of Joker's hair, definitely doesn't think about the way his hands are trembling at his sides, thinks about having a bowl of cereal later, thinks about the ocean, thinks about what he should buy his aunt for her birthday, thinks about how he doesn't know what day her birthday is, thinks about sitting in the dark and binge-eating a whole chocolate cake from Tesco, thinks about his mother singing to him as a child- and Sebastian steps away, hands at his hips.

"Not too shabby," he remarks, tilting his head minutely to the side. "Usually the women... fill out this tie more, but, I think it suits you. I'll have to find out a way to work on emphasizing how small you are even more." He helps Ciel sit down on the couch, and retrieves the ball gag from his side, holding it up near Ciel's face. "Open your mouth," he says, and Ciel is already doing it - he would jump off a building if Sebastian told him to. 

"Good boy," Sebastian murmurs as he slips the ball gag behind Ciel's teeth, sending a shock of arousal straight to Ciel's cock. His hands are incredibly gentle as he tightens the straps around the back of Ciel's head, and then steps back to admire his work. "Gorgeous," Sebastian says as he steps backwards to pick up his camera, hanging the strap around hid neck. He steps forward to position Ciel the way that he wants him, bending one knee back towards his chest, head against the couch cushion, one leg dangling over the edge. 

Spit pools around the gag, rolling down Ciel's chin. He breathes quickly in and out through his nose, eyes constantly following Sebastian.

Sebastian lowers the camera to look at Ciel, lips curled into a thin, almost cruel smile. "Look at you," he says quietly, voice harsh, "drooling like a baby. Are you a baby, Ciel?" He brings the camera back up when Ciel's eyes brim with tears, distorting his image of Sebastian.

He feels Sebastian contort his body more, head turned to the side, back arched as far as the ropes will allow, fingers thin and dainty beside his smooth thighs. 

"No," he presses on, shutter snapping loudly, "you're more like a cat. You seem to shy away from interaction with others, but you are so desperate to be loved, aren't you,  _kitten?"_

Ciel is really crying now, and, to top it all off, he's painfully hard, just like before. He pants through his nose, chest aflame with patches of strawberry, cherry red against white that he can pretend are lovebites from Sebastian, not from relentless teasing and being horny. The tears puddle into his ears, the drool collects in the dip between his collarbones, spilling onto the couch. He wants to roll over onto his stomach, buck against the cushions, desperate for any friction, but Sebastian doesn't allow it.

"Spread your legs," he commands, still looking through the viewfinder, "feet on the arm of the couch." He makes little cooing sounds when Ciel complies, murmuring things he knows that Ciel is begging to hear, sweet nothings like  _good boy, pretty boy, sweetheart, darling, angel, beautiful beautiful beautiful._

Ciel shuts his eyes, images of his dreams flashing through his mind; Sebastian moaning, bouncing Ciel on his cock, hands grabbing, teeth biting, bleeding, cumming, white hot lightning in his brain - and after what feels like hours (it is hours; the analog clock on the wall says that it's just a little after twelve in the morning) Sebastian undoes Ciel's binding, pulls the ball gag from his mouth.

Strings of saliva roll down his chin, following after the silicone ball, sticking to Sebastian's fingers. He doesn't seem to mind, instead disappears for a brief minute, and when he returns, he has a bottle of lotion in his hands. He sits behind Ciel and begins to rub a few pumps of sweet smelling lotion into his shoulders, stretching Ciel's arms out, working it all the way down to Ciel's fingertips.

"You did very well," he says, voice impossibly soft, and God - Ciel was already trying his hardest to not fall in love with Sebastian, but he now has to try four-hundred times harder, because if Sebastian keeps praising him like that, the world is going to crack open and Ciel is going to fall straight into hell. "I'm very proud of your work tonight."

Ciel blinks heavily, fighting the urge to drop his head against Sebastian's shoulder. "I'm tired, Daddy," he murmurs absentmindedly, and only when he feels Sebastian tense behind him, does Ciel realize what he's said. "Shit, fuck - I mean, I didn't - I gotta go!" He stands up too fast, and his wobbly legs cave beneath him, sending Ciel tumbling to the floor, face first. Blood speckles the ground, red rivulets dripping from his nostrils. 

"Ciel, are you all right?" Sebastian's voice is too close, his hands too warm against Ciel's skin.

"I'm fine," Ciel nearly yells, voice scraping its way out of his throat as he jerks away from Sebastian, pulling his clothes on faster than he ever has before. He wipes his nose against his wrist, more red on white. "I'm - I'm gonna go," he says, breathing fast and hard, and before Sebastian can respond, Ciel slips out of the room and runs out into the cold, hands plunged deep into his pockets.

-

Sebastian shakes his head mutely, combing his fingers through his hair. "I mean, I have no idea where it came from," he says, sitting cross legged on the couch, the television a low rumble in the background. "I think it freaked him out more than me, personally. You should've seen the look on his face, like I just stabbed him or something. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, he was sheet white. More so than usual."

"He clearly likes you, Bassy," Grell says, brows lifted high on her forehead. "He's just a kid, at least, he is compared to you, you old man." She lets out a sigh, leans forward to pick up her glass of wine from the table. "You said he's an orphan right? Maybe he sees you as a father figure." Her mouth stretches into a grimace. "Unlikely, but, we have to be positive."

Letting out a groan, Sebastian buries his face in his hands. "Oh, and I reacted so badly, Grell! He must think I hate him, or something. You know - I spend two hours coddling him and riling him up, it's no wonder he said it." He peeks at Grell through his fingers like a child. "What if he stops modeling for me? Or stops coming to class with me? I - I've gotten used to him being around." He leans forward to sip at a cup of coffee; it's tepid. 

"That's because you like him too, stupid." Grell shakes her head, sniffing out a scoff when Sebastian splutters into his cup. "I swear - you're the dumbest person I have ever met. The boy could do a fan dance with some tissues and you wouldn't get it. He could suck your dick and you'd still think he was being friendly." She leans forward to cup Sebastian's face in her large, cool hands. "The attraction that you have is obviously mutual."

Sebastian's brows draw together. "I told him that I didn't fuck my models," he says, staring blankly at the ground. "I can't fuck one of my models." 

Her nose wrinkles, a disgruntled sigh coming from her mouth. "No one's telling you to fuck the kid and then drop him, Sebastian. I'm just saying - you haven't been in a physical, intimate relationship with anyone since Doll, and you and I both know that Ciel is head-over-heels for you. It's written all over his face. I saw it the first night you two met." She shakes her head absently, letting out another sigh. "It wouldn't hurt to at least try. You know, go see him, make sure that he's okay, and hasn't walled himself into a cave of isolation like he did in uni."

"Christ, Grell, it's two in the morning, I can't go see him now-"

"I'm not saying go see him right this instant, you absolute dunce. For someone so book smart, you have absolutely no common sense." Grell throws her head back, sliding onto her side on the couch. "Look, go see him, first thing in the morning. You don't have class tomorrow, so, pick up some flowers, some coffee if you know how he takes it, perhaps even an  _I'm sorry I'm such an asshole, it's fine that you accidentally called me Daddy_ card?"

Sebastian presses his fingertips into his eyes again, groaning quietly. "To tell the truth," he begins, voice muffled by his hands, "I didn't even mind that much... I think I kind of liked it."

Grell sits up, a smirk on her face. "You kinky little fucker," she chastises, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, you definitely have to tell him that - maybe you two could start something, play that up in your photo shoots."

"You're right," Sebastian says, snapping his fingers. "Maybe I made the  _don't fuck models_ rule because all of my models have been female, and I'm anything but heterosexual."

"Join the club," Grell murmurs, raising her glass in the air. "And, what's more, is you're into twinks. Teeny tiny little twinks that you can fuck til they cry." Her voice is very matter-of-fact, and it draws heat into Sebastian's cheeks. "I've seen the photographs, love, and I've seen the way that you look at Ciel; like you could eat him. Like you could just rip him apart, limb from limb."

Sebastian shakes his head, blinking rapidly. "That's not how it is, Grell. I do not look at him like I could eat him. I'll admit he's a very cute young man, and he cries very easily, and he gets all red when he's embarrassed..." His voice trails off, a fond smile on his face for a few seconds, before he shakes his head again, vigorously this time, like he's trying to rid himself of Ciel's image. "I can't, Grell, I just can't do it. If anything happened to him-"

"Stop worrying about something that might not even happen, Sebastian!" Grell moves to sit beside him, her fingers curled around his biceps, green eyes wide. "There was nothing you could've done to prevent what Doll did, love. He was a very sad, depressed boy, and even if you hadn't been found out, he probably still would've done it." She shakes him firmly, voice louder than it should be. "You have got to stop worrying - stop ruminating on the past, because you'll never be able to move forward with your life."

He glances down. "I do not ruminate."

Grell laughs, throwing her head back. "Yes, the fuck you do, Sebastian Michaelis. I've known you since you were still doing little showings out of your storage room. I know everything about you, and I know that you have a painting of a boy whose been dead for nearly fifteen years hung in your fucking bedroom! If that's not ruminating, I don't know what is." She lets out a sigh, patting Sebastian's hand. "Ciel is a sweet boy, and I can see that he has a lot of love to give, and absolutely no one to give it to. I mean, he lives alone, he has like, one friend, and he's out and about with you for ninety-five percent of the time, so it's no wonder that he got attached to you."

Sebastian sighs heavily, pulling his hand from Grell's touch. "I just don't know. What if he gets to know the real me and ends up hating me? I don't know if I could handle it."

"He already lets you take embarrassing naked pictures of him as you ridicule and tease him, babe. I think he already knows the real you- besides, what does that bullshit even mean? The real you? Sebastian, the real you is a huge dork. The real you sits around in his underwear on his days off. The real you has a caffeine problem, and you should really consider cutting back, because it's almost two-thirty in the morning, and I think that's about your twentieth cup of coffee today." 

She reaches over to touch his hand again, head tilted gently. "Ciel already likes you, Sebastian. I'm sure that he'd love to really get to know you, all the parts of you. Just give him a chance, okay?" When Sebastian sucks in a breath, Grell cuts him off, grabbing his face in her hands again. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't want to fuck Ciel or have any kind of relationship with him. Tell me that, right now. Look me in the eyes and say it."

He licks his bottom lip as best he can with his cheeks smushed inward by Grell's hands. "I... I don't... Fuck you," he murmurs, eyes dropping to the ground. 

Grell lets go of his head and she lets out a whoop, a grin on her face. "Just go for it, baby, please! I want to see you happy again, and I know that being around Ciel makes you happy. If he didn't make you happy, you wouldn't take him to class with you, or let him into your home, or give him a job right off the bat."

Sebastian glances down at his hands, chewing on his lip. An ambulance goes off somewhere down the road. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth, and looks back up at Grell. "All right," he says quietly, "I'll go for it."

-

"Wait, wait, wait, you did  _what?!_ _"_ Alois' mouth hangs open as he stares at Ciel, who is laying on the floor of Alois' closet, curled into a little ball. "I cannot fucking believe you, you cunt! You really called him Daddy? Like, full on, fetish, Daddy?"

Ciel groans from within the closet, pulling his body in tighter. "Stop saying it!" he screeches, fingers pressed into his eyes so hard that he sees stars. "I'm so embarrassed! I can never see Sebastian again. I'm going to move to America and change my name to something weird, like Kale, or Leaf, or whatever's popular over there right now." He sits up, curls his fingers around the door jamb, cheeks bright red. "Stop laughing! It's not funny, this is serious!"

Alois takes in a ragged breath, tears of laughter streaming down his face. "I'm - oh fuck, I'm sorry, babe, but that's the funniest shit I've heard it ages, all right? And previously, it was that Aleister is dating some bartender that works over in Bromley."

"Ew, don't call him Aleister- I can't believe you still talk to him. Oh, that's not the point!" Ciel crawls out from the closet and flops onto Alois' bed, hands over his face. "I really like him, and I really liked being his friend - and now I've fucked everything up!" He draws his knees to his chest, groaning loudly. "He's not going to want me to go to class with him anymore and he's gonna fire me as a model and I'm gonna get evicted from my apartment and then I'm gonna die, that's it, I'm gonna fucking die."

Rolling his eyes, Alois sits up, pokes Ciel in the side. "You're such a fucking worry-wart. I'm surprised you don't have any ulcers or anything, yet." He sighs, shakes his head. "Look, I only know of Sebastian from a professional standpoint - but when you talk about him, it's like he fuckin' hung the moon in the sky. He lets you follow him around a puppy, so I'm pretty sure that he's not going to suddenly get rid of you from his life just because you said something a little weird."

"A little?" Ciel's voice is too high and too harsh for a little after two-thirty in the morning, and Alois elbows him hard in the ribs.

"Shut the fuck up! I have neighbors, you twat!"

Ciel flinches away from Alois, arms wrapped around his middle. "A little?" he hiss-whispers, twisting around to look Alois straight on. "I called him  _Daddy,_ without any prompting or any sexual advances or anything! He told me that I had done a good job, and that was how I responded!" He covers his face again, bending down so that his knuckles brush his thighs. "He must think I'm a freak; he probably hates me."

Alois pulls Ciel up into a sitting position, hands on his shoulders. "Stop freaking out. Fucking breathe, okay?" He allows Ciel to take in a few deep breaths before he continues speaking, voice surprisingly stern. "You worry too much about what could happen or what could go wrong, and it sucks, Ciel. You need to stop it, because it keeps you from doing things that you want to do. And I get the depression thing, I do, but sometimes you just gotta... you gotta fight it, you know? Cause if you don't, you're just gonna rot away in your room."

Ciel glances down. "I don't worry about everything."

Alois barks out a harsh, mean laugh, shoving hard at Ciel's shoulder. "Yes, the fuck you do, Phantomhive. You sit and worry about absolutely everything - a bloody leaf could blow down the street and you'd be worried that it might have some weird butterfly effect on the rest of the day, and if that's not worrying, then I don't know what is." He sighs, pulling Ciel against his chest in a hug. "Look, you're lonely, and you've got such a big heart, Ciel. Sebastian is truly, genuinely nice to you, so it's no wonder that you're attached to him."

"I just don't know," Ciel says, straightening up, voice soft and weak. "What if... what if when he gets to know the real me... what if he decides he hates the real me?"

Lifting his brows, Alois lets out a confused little laugh, looking at Ciel with his head cocked. "Babe, you are the real you. You're a dorky little weirdo that reads too much and likes old American movies and can't handle your alcohol at all, and I'm sure Sebastian likes all of that, considering how much time the two of you spend together. You're practically already attached at the hip." He leans forward minutely, his body pressing comfortably against Ciel's. "Tell me that you don't him. Look me in the eyes, and tell me that you don't like him."

Ciel picks at his bottom lip, blinking rapidly and not looking at Alois. "You know I can't do that," he says quietly, jaw pulsing. "You know that I like him. I think everyone in the fucking world knows that I like him... except him." He sighs, flopping backwards on the bed. "He just seems so indifferent towards me. I feel like I do a dance naked on his desk and he'd just think I was trying to entertain him. I could suck his dick and he'd probably think I was just being friendly!"

Alois lets out a sigh, flops backward beside Ciel. "Maybe you could see him first thing tomorrow. It's Saturday, so he won't have class, right? Get him something that he likes, pick up some coffee, or a new SD card or something. Maybe some chocolate, or a card that says  _I really like you and I'm sorry that I accidentally called you Daddy?"_ He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, combs his fingers through Ciel's bangs. "You haven't been with anyone since you dated Lawrence, and that was nearly two years ago. I think it would be nice if you dated someone kind, and sexy, and financially stable like Sebastian. You should just... go for it."

Nodding gently, Ciel turns his head to look at Alois, taking a deep breath in through his nose. "All right," he murmurs, "I'll go for it."


	7. falling for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys try to make a surprise visit to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i really liked the last chapter! this chapter will follow the same kind of sebastian-time vs ciel-time thing where its happening at the same time but in different places, you get the gist. hope you all like this chapter, and i hope that youre all well
> 
> also, thank you all for your sweet comments and all the kudos - it really keeps me motivated to write. im depressed at least 95% of the time, but seeing everyone being so kind and warm really makes me happy and makes me want to create, to write more. so, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Sebastian stands in front of the candy display in Tesco, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dress slacks. He looks like a groom, in a neatly pressed suit with a stupid-looking bowtie that Nina had insisted he wear, and a bunch of flowers held in the crook of his elbow: a handful of Baby's Breath, a cluster of gardenias, some peonies, and a few ranunculus. He doesn't know if Ciel will like them - hell, for all he knows, the kid could be deathly allergic to flowers and he could drop dead in front of Sebastian's feet.

He lets out a deep breath, jaw working back and forth as he grinds his teeth together, a nasty habit, he knows, but he'd picked up the caffeine addiction to kick the grinding.

He knows that Ciel has a sweet tooth, but he can't, for the life of himself, think of what to buy for him. He's been staring at a pack of chocolate for nearly twenty minutes now, tapping his foot a million miles an hour, grinding his teeth like nobody's business. 

Ultimately, he settles on a handful of things from Cadbury, a Lion bar, a Galaxy Caramel, and something small and square that is mysteriously missing a brand label, but Sebastian scoops it up anyway, clutching all of the candies in one large, slightly slick hand. 

When he sets everything down on the conveyor belt, the old woman behind the register lets out a soft giggle, hand at her mouth. Her name tag says  _Elizabeth._ "Are you going on a date, young man?" she asks, scanning his items, a smile on her face.

"Something like that," Sebastian murmurs, picking at a hangnail on his left hand. "Excuse me, do you know where I can get a quick cup of coffee - it doesn't have to be good or anything, I just... I need the caffeine." He adjusts the flowers to his other arm, pulling out his wallet to pay for the candy.

Elizabeth hums in her throat, taking Sebastian's crumbled bills from his fingertips. "I don't drink coffee these days, dear, so I'm afraid I can't be of much help to you. There's a young man that lives in my complex, and when he has the money, I believe he likes to go to - oh, what is it called? Attention? Attendant?" She shakes her head, bagging Sebastian's treats. "Sorry, dear, I can't quite remember what it's called. I hope you end up getting a cup, however, and I hope you have a lovely date!"

Sebastian exhales through his nose, a thin smile on his face as he collects his bag and takes his change, feeling slightly irritated. He wants this to work, wants to give Ciel nice things, wants to make him feel loved and welcomed and not scared - the fear that had been in Ciel's eyes the night before flashes through Sebastian's mind, and he pauses in the middle of the crosswalk to tug at his hair.

A car beeps its horn at him, and Sebastian startles into walking again, shaking his head when he gets to his car.  _Damn kid. Making me lose my fucking mind. I bet he's sleeping just fine, all curled up in bed, cute little fucker that he is._ He lets out a sigh, settles the flowers and candy into the passenger seat, and buckles his own seat-belt before typing in nearby coffee shops into his cellphone. 

-

Ciel stands in front of the SD card display in the electronics shop, his fingers tangled into his hair. He looks like he's on the edge of a mental breakdown, wearing a stained long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, with dark circles beneath his eyes and chapped, bloody lips. He'd had to make an embarrassing call before even gathering the courage to show up to the store - it's not his fault, he doesn't know the first thing about photography or SD cards or cameras.

He lets out a deep breath, hands on his hips as he glances briefly Joker, who is sitting cross-legged on the ground, rifling through various packs of the cards. 

"So, are you and Mr. Michaelis getting it on?" he asks, drawing Ciel's attention in a quick head-snap to the right, oceanic eyes wide. "I mean," Joker continues, digging through the small pile he's made on the floor, "you always come to class with him, and Sully saw you get into his car the other day. We all kind of have a betting pool that you two are fucking."

Ciel's bottom lip cannot handle anymore chewing or picking, so Ciel takes a deep breath in through his nose, squeezes his eyes shut, and then looks back at Joker. "No, Sebastian and I are not  _getting it on._ I am - I do like him, and I have intentions to ask him out, which is why you're here, because I don't know shit about photography or what kind of cards or cameras Mr. Mich-  _Sebastian_ uses." He presses his fingertips into the bridge of his nose. "How many of you bet that we were fucking?"

Joker purses his bottom lip, humming loudly. "Eh, I'd say about all of us. Double Charles didn't though - but, they're usually too busy thinking about themselves to think about others." He shrugs his shoulders, returning his attention to the cards. "Mr. Michaelis uses this kind," he says, holding up one of the many packs that he's scattered around on the floor, "they have the most memory, and he likes using them for his other job."

"You all know about that?" Ciel asks, sucking in a breath, hand fluttering up to his chest.

Letting out a little scoff, Joker stands, thrusting multiple packs of the card into Ciel's hands. "Of course. At least - I do. I have a little problem with snooping, I can't help it! He hid his website really well, but, I still managed to find it." He shrugs again, and shoves his hands into his pockets, following behind Ciel as they walk over to the check-out register. 

As Ciel is paying, Joker leans down to murmur in Ciel's ear, "I've seen your pictures, too, you know."

Ciel gasps, his money scattering everywhere when he drops his wallet in shock. "Joker!" he hisses, quickly rounding on the other male, cheeks bright red. "Don't mention it to the other students!" His voice is high and squeaked out, tears beginning to brim in his eyes. He drops to his knees, picking up his scattered money with trembling hands.

"Shit," Joker whispers beneath his breath, following Ciel down to the floor, helping him scoop up the rest of his money. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. Don't worry, none of the other guys know. It's just me. And Mr. Michaelis doesn't know that I know, so, can you please not tell him?" His face is soft and earnest, and despite the sudden anger that has pooled up in Ciel's chest and cheeks, he can't help but feel bad for Joker.

Ciel stands up, sighing gently. "I won't tell him," he murmurs, quietly paying for everything. "As long as the class doesn't find out about Sebastian's and my other job," he says, nudging Joker softly in the ribs. Once everything is bagged, Ciel falls in step alongside Joker, a wistful smile on his face. "Do you think we could make a quick stop at a coffee shop? I want to get Sebastian something."

-

"I just want a cup of coffee," Sebastian says for the fifth time, his patience being to wear thin. "I don't want a fucking cappuccino or frappucino or whatever the fuck it's called. I just want a cup of coffee, is that so hard to understand?" He scoffs, hands falling limply at his sides.

The young woman behind the counter is close to crying, her green eyes big and sparkling beneath the dim lighting of the cafe. Her name tag reads _Lizzie._

Sebastian takes a deep breath in through his nose, exhaling loudly through his mouth. He laces his fingers together, index fingers resting at his upper lip. "Look, I get that you're probably underpaid and overworked and I'm some asshole in a suit - but, this is an important day for me, and I just want a cup of coffee. I just - I just want a cup of coffee with as many shots of espresso that you can legally give me, okay?" He's rambling, he's being rude to a person he's trying to purchase goods from - it's unlike him, but the lack of caffeine in his body and the throbbing headache he's adopted from grinding his teeth all day has begun to drive him crazy.

If he doesn't get coffee soon, he's going to turn bright green and rip out of his clothes and tear London apart with his bare hands. But he doesn't. Sebastian forces his body to relax, breathing as deeply as his lungs will allow. "Look," he says again, looking directly at the girl, " _Lizzie,_ I'm going to ask someone out today, someone very important to me, and if I don't just get one plain cup of coffee in the next five to ten minutes, I'm going to freak out. Understand? Like, full on, destroy this place, freak out."

She lets out a squeak, eyes wide as evergreen saucers.

"So, if you don't want to have to scrape the carnage of the other customers off of the walls, just get me... a fucking cup of coffee, please?" 

Lizzie scampers off, and when she returns, she is properly crying, black mascara tears streaming down her face as she holds a steaming cup of coffee in a trembling hand. She sniffs loudly, taking in ragged, gasping breaths. "The - the m-manager said it's - it's on the house."

"Oh, shit." Sebastian  _tsks_ his tongue against the backs of his teeth, pulling out his wallet. "I'm - I'm sorry," he murmurs, pulling out a few notes, much more than are probably needed, "I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm sorry I was so rude. Here." He curls the bills into her fingers, which are still trembling. "Keep the change, and please, have a nice day. Forgive me."

He shakes his head and grabs the coffee cup, draining half of it before he's even out of the shop.  _I'll find some place better for Ciel's coffee._

-

Ciel's brows draw together as he leans against the counter, propped up on his tip-toes. "Wait, what happened? He yelled at you?"

"He didn't yell, exactly, but he was very mean," Lizzie murmurs as she shakily spoons some ice into a mug of coffee, face streaky with dried tears and mascara. "Apparently, he's going to ask someone out on a date today - I hope she says no. Whoever it is, she can do much better than a stiff in a suit."

Joker puffs out his lips, sucking on the straw that's dug deep into his cup of Boba. He doesn't like the beads of tapioca, keeps spitting them out onto a napkin that lays on the counter in front of him. "He's sound like a right git," he murmurs, staring absently at Lizzie, eyes wide and unfocused.

Ciel wedges his elbow into Joker's ribs, a grimace on his face. "That's disgusting," he says of the tapioca napkin, nose wrinkled. "Just eat them; they're good." 

"Don't like the way they feel in my mouth," Joker retorts, spitting out a cluster of the balls into his hand, a string of spit following after them.

"Gross," Ciel hisses, stepping away from him. "Lizzie, _I'm_ actually asking someone out on a date today, so, could you make me one of those cute little strawberry drinks you used to make when I was still at Kings? The one with the whipped cream and the little sauce heart on top?" He swallows hard. She hadn't looked very happy to see him, but she had seemed to calmed down once Ciel mentioned that he and Alois were talking again, that they were on good terms.

Lizzie sniffs a little, rubbing her nose along the inside of her wrist. "Of course, Ciel. Anything for you. You look better, by the way. Healthier. Shinier, like... cleaner? I dunno."

Ciel lets out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I actually have the energy to shower these days," he murmurs, cheeks warming. "It's really good to see you. I've missed you, and I know that I did and said some shitty things back then, but... I've changed. I'm happy now, and I have a job, and I go to a photography class with this guy." He nudges Joker affectionately, only to realize that he's spitting out more of the tapioca, pulling away with a groan. "That's so gross!"

"You don't take the class with me," Joker says as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, straightening up. "You sit at Mr. Michaelis' desk and make goo-goo eyes at him the whole time. Unless, of course, you're _modeling_ for us, and then Mr. Michaelis eye-fucks you the whole time." He slurps loudly at the remains of his Boba, making Lizzie grimace before she fixes Ciel with a serious look.

"You're asking a teacher on a date?!" Her voice is shrill, and when she shakes her head, her blonde twin-tails shake from side to side. "More so, you model for his class?!"

Ciel sighs loudly, cutting his eyes at Joker briefly. "He's not my teacher, Liz. We're friends, and I sit with him in his class in the morning - and yes, sometimes I model for his class, just so they can have a real world example to shoot; where's the harm in that?"

Lizzie lifts her brows in place of a shrug, focusing her attention on Ciel's drink. "There's no harm, Ciel. I'm just glad to see you happy. Just let him know, that if he hurts you, I am a black-belt in Judo. You've always been one of my favorite people, and I'll protect you, no matter how I have to do it."

"You cried cause some dude asked for a cup of coffee, babe," Ciel says quietly as Lizzie slides the strawberry coffee drink over to him.

"He was very mean about it!" she screeches, drawing attention from other customers, turning both her and Ciel's cheeks red.

Ciel lets out a nervous laugh and sets some money on the counter. "Keep the change," he murmurs, "we gotta go."

-

Sebastian has had six cups of coffee in thirty minutes. He's standing in line at a Starbucks with his fists clenched firmly at his side, nails biting into his palms. "Just - just give me the sweetest thing that you have on the menu, okay? I don't care what's in it, how many calories it has, whether it's vegan or not - I do not care. I'm asking someone out today, and he has a sweet tooth, and I just... I just want the sweetest fuckin' thing on the menu, okay? This is the third coffee shop that I've been to, and I'm this close to losing my mind."

The young man that stands behind the counter looks positively peeved, his blond brows lifted in annoyance. "What do you want, though?" His name tag reads  _Ed._

"Are we not speaking the same fucking language?" Sebastian lets out a scoff, turns around to a worried looking mother who has her hands clamped over the ears of her child. "Did you hear me ask him what I wanted? I said I wanted the sweetest thing on the menu, right?" He turns back around to the useless fuck, hand touching at his forehead. "I mean, Jesus Christ,  _Ed,_ you work here. You should know what the sweetest thing on the menu is, because that's all I want. That's literally all that I'm fucking asking for."

"Hang on, I got him," a voice calls from the door, and Sebastian turns around, relief crossing his face as Grell walks up to the counter.

"Sweet Jesus, took you long enough," he says, letting out a loud sigh. "Apparently all of the coffee shops in this Godforsaken town don't understand me when I speak, so why don't you order the sweetest - are you listening, Ed? Cause I'm only gonna say this one more time - the sweetest. Fucking. Thing. On the. Menu."

Grell sets her purse on the counter, tucking a strand of long red hair behind her ear. "Can I get the Cupcake Creme frappe with two extra shots of hazelnut, one shot of vanilla, and one shot of espresso?" She smiles thinly as Ed lifts his brows once again in irritation and walks over to the drink making station, leaving Sebastian fuming in anger. "You should really learn to Google stuff before you go places and yell at the workers," Grell murmurs, patting Sebastian on the back.

He presses his fingertips against his eyelids, dragging them down his face. "I swear to God, Grell - I'm this close. I'm  _this close_ to absolutely losing my fucking mind." Sebastian shakes his head when Ed sets the drink in front of him, showing him the total on the screen. "I hate you, Ed, I really fucking hate you. You're the rudest little shithead I've ever-"

"Go," Grell says, pushing Sebastian out of the way, "go get in your car and go drive around until you cool off. I'll pay for your stupid drink."

Sebastian snatches the drink off the counter, pointing a finger at Ed. "Watch yourself, kid." He walks backward towards the door, keeping his eyes on Ed the whole time until he's out to his car.

-

"What am I gonna wear? I don't have any fucking clothes!" Ciel tears through his closet like a madman, flinging articles of clothing every which way. Joker sits on his bed, cross legged, observing him carefully. "I mean - what, what do you think Sebastian would wear on a date? Have you ever seen him go on any dates? Why do I dress like a hobo all the time?!"

Joker sniffs, tilting his head to the side. "I think Mr. Michaelis would wear like, a suit or something, to be completely honest. We all think he's kind of a showy asshole, you know? Like - oooh, look at my sweet cameras while you guys use shitty point-and-shoots, and look at my model who I'm definitely gonna have sex with in the classroom while you guys are all here, watching, and it'll be like some weird, exhibitionist voyeur type shit, and I'll give you all review papers later so you can grade me on my form and like, hip-work." 

Ciel chuckles at Joker's lowered voice, a bad impression of Sebastian's deep register. 

"He's not an asshole," he murmurs, continuing to dig through his clothes, most of which are laying on the floor. "He's actually a very nice man."

"I saw him yell at a piece of paper once because he nearly tripped over it. Do you have any crisps?"

Ciel glances backward at the bed, brows drawn together. "Uh, no. And, so he's a little strange, but he's a sweet man. He's very kind and gentle. He cares about all of you, you know that, right? He loves teaching. He loves the class so much, sometimes it's all he talks about." He bites his bottom lip, softly this time, not to pick or pull up any skin. It's thoughtful, reflective. "He's very passionate about what he does, and I admire that. With all my heart, I really do."

"We must be talking about a different Mr. Michaelis," Joker murmurs, slipping off of the bed. He kneels beside one of the piles of clothing and fishes out a cable-knit sweater that is striped black and white from top to bottom. "Why don't you wear this? Mr. Michaelis will probably be wearing something black - if he's not wearing a suit. That way you two can match. Aren't couples into cheesy shit like that?"

Grabbing the sweater from Joker's hands, Ciel clutches it to his chest. "Sebastian is a bit too old for that, don't you think?" His voice is soft, pensive. He could fall in love with someone like Sebastian, someone sturdy with ever-changing emotions and hands that can be gentle or rough. Ciel's fingers tighten in the fabric, wetness brimming along his lower lash line. "What if he says no? What if he doesn't want to go out with someone like me?"

"Someone like you? What is that supposed to mean?" Joker squats next to Ciel, their eyes meeting. "Do you mean someone that's sweet, and funny, and cute? Someone that cares way too much about what other people think? Someone that turns red whenever Mr. Michaelis even glances at them?" He touches Ciel gently on the back, so gently that Ciel hardly feels it. "He'd be an idiot to say no. I'll punch him in the mouth if he says no, how does that sound?"

Ciel sniffs, letting out a little laugh. "That sounds like a bad idea, but I'll let you do it, only if he says no." He holds out a hand towards Joker, head tilted softly to the side. "Shake on it?"

Joker chuckles, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he grabs Ciel's hand firmly. "Shake on it."

-

"What do you mean the engine is broken?"

Sebastian's hands are trembling with anger, curled into fists. He stands in front of his car, which is suspiciously smoking from the hood. "It was working abso-fuckin-lutely fine this morning. I've been driving around all day, and as soon as I'm ready to go where I'm supposed to be going, God decides I haven't had enough trouble today and breaks my fucking car?!"

The woman that has been inspecting his car wipes oil off her hands onto her jumpsuit. The patch sewn into the right breast side reads  _Paula._ "I think there's something wrong with the camshaft," she says, like Sebastian knows what the fuck a camshaft is, like he's not in the midst of a mental breakdown, "but I can't say for sure. I can have my head mechanic look at it - we may need to keep it overnight, maybe even for a few days."

Sebastian steeples his shaking fingers, breathing in and out as calmly as he can. "I will pay," he begins, speaking lowly and slowly, "whatever it takes to get my car fixed. I will pay... nine-million pounds if that's what it takes."

"Oh, Mr. Michaelis, it won't be that much. Look, I'll get it looked at as soon as I can, but I wouldn't have high hopes about getting it back today." Paula tucks a curl of hair back up into her cap, staring at Sebastian. "Would you like me to call you a taxi?"

Exhaling deeply through his nose, Sebastian shuts his eyes, turns away from Paula. "No," he says through clenched teeth, "I don't want you to call a fucking taxi. I want my car fixed, and I want it fixed as soon as possible. I don't care if the bloody Queen is having her chariot looked at, because I've had a shit day, and I'm caffeine deprived and I'm trying my hardest to not freak out." He turns back around, knuckles bone white beneath his skin. "I just - I just want my car fixed." 

He collapses melodramatically into a folding car, bending forward so that his forehead touches his knees.

"Oh, dear," Paula murmurs, patting at his back. "I'm sorry, Mr. Michaelis, but there's really nothing we can do about it right now. The offer of a taxi still stands, however." She bends down, cups his face in her small, surprisingly soft hands. "Just take a few deep breaths, okay? Feel your feet on the ground. Try to think about something that calms you down, or makes you happy." Paula lets go of his face, her honey-colored eyes wide and thickly lashed. "Go on! Close your eyes, and just imagine."

Sebastian sucks in a breath and shuts his eyes, spreading his legs slightly and planting his feet firmly on the ground. Flashes of black and blue flash through his mind, streaked all over with red and white. The colors come into focus, and it's Ciel. Ciel, smiling. Ciel, laughing. Ciel, crying. Ciel's cock, flushed red and strained against his stomach. Ciel's mouth, open and pleading, begging for kisses, begging for _more, please more, harder. More more more._

He lets out the breath he's been holding, chest feeling light and free. "All right," he murmurs, gently patting his thighs, "I think I'll take you up on that taxi offer."

Paula springs to her feet, giggling loudly. "One cab, coming right up, Mr. Michaelis!"

-

"Thank you so much for driving me places today," Ciel says softly as they sit in Joker's car, just outside Sebastian's flat. "I'll give you gas money once Sebastian pays me-"

Joker lifts up a hand, shaking his head from side to side. "Don't worry about it, Ciel, really. You're a good guy, and you seem really sweet on Sebastian. If he's happy and you're happy, then everything's fine with me." His lips press together, and he watches as Ciel unbuckles his seat belt. "Do you want me to wait? I mean - if something goes wrong, so I can give you a ride home?"

Ciel lets out a sigh, hands sweaty around the handle of the bag he's stuffed everything into, except for the drink. It is more or less of a strawberry colored sludge now, the whipped cream melted and runny, the heart made of sauce completely indistinguishable at this point. "No, thank you," he says, voice slightly more confident than Joker has heard it before. "I think that everything will be fine. Again, thank you, for today. It really means a lot."

"Of course, Ciel. Anytime. If you ever need something, just call me."

Ciel's lips make a little _o,_ softly taking in a breath. "I - uh, I don't have a cell phone. Or a home phone. I usually make calls at the library, or at the center."

Joker's brows draw together in confusion, but there is a smile on his face. "You're a very strange person, Ciel. Well, if you ever need anything, and you just so happen to be at the library or at the center or near a phone box, just... call me." He shuffles around the contents of the middle console until he finds an old takeout menu and a chewed on pen. "Here," Joker says after he's scribbled down a string of number, passing the menu over to Ciel, who folds it neatly into sections and slips it into his pocket. 

"I will," he says, voice ever gentle, as he pushes open the car door. "Thank you, again. If I can ever repay you in any way, just let me know-"

"It's fine, Ciel. I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die, it's fine," Joker says sternly, face betraying his tone. His mouth is tugged up at one corner and his eyebrows are raised the slightest bit. "All right, now go on, get out of here. Go get your man."

Ciel takes in a deep breath and shuts the car door, patting the hood twice affectionately before he steps up onto the curb, palms slick with sweat.  _Breathe, Ciel, just breathe. He'll say yes. And, if he doesn't say yes, there's a gun shop just down the road. Shit. Stop that. It'll be fine. Everything will be perfectly fine. He'll say yes and we'll fall madly in love with one another. Just go up, and buzz the door._

His legs don't move, and he continues standing on the curb, muttering quietly to himself. "Just buzz the fuckin' door," he hisses to himself, brows knit in anger. "What if he says no?" Ciel stomps his foot. "He won't say no! Just go buzz!" He lets out a groan and jiggles up and down in place for a few seconds. "All right, all right, I'm buzzing the door, I'm buzzing the door!" 

He all but jogs over to the intercom, heart going a million miles an hour as he tucks the sludge cup into the crook of his arm, tentatively reaching up to press the button. Ciel hops from foot to foot like he has to pee, which he might - he can't really tell right now. All of his feeling has knotted into his stomach, leaving everything else feeling numb and detached. "Sebastian?" he says softly into the speaker when there is no answer, "it's Ciel. I really want to talk, so can I come up?"

Silence answers.

Ciel's ears ring and he presses the button again, his cheeks going warm. "If - if you hate me, I get it. I don't blame you, but... I would just really like for you to say something." He waits, and waits, and waits.

More silence.

Tears begin to roll down his cheeks and he wipes his sleeve against his nose, sniffling loudly. He buzzes the door again, pressing his forehead against the freezing metal of the intercom. "Sebastian, please," he whimpers, chin wobbling like a child. "Fine," he says shakily after there is more silence. "Whatever." 

He drops the drink onto the ground when he moves away from the speaker, slipping from the embrace of his arm. "Fuck!" Ciel shouts, fists clenching as the liquid spills around him, splashing up onto his jeans. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He's yelling now - screaming, shrill - some people have stopped walking and are staring, their cheeks red with cold, eyes wide with shock.

Ciel drops the bag of SD cards on the ground, head tilted up towards the sky as he screams and cries, embarrassingly loud. He doesn't care. He hopes Sebastian can hear him. He hopes Sebastian can  _feel_ how heartbroken he is.

After what feels like hours (it isn't. Only minutes have passed) Ciel's shoulders slump, and he bends down to pick up the empty cup and bag, before he dejectedly begins the trek home.

-

"Thanks for the ride," Sebastian murmurs to the taxi driver, a beady eyed older man, who is plump and sweaty. "Keep the change," he says and climbs out, taking a deep breath in as he steps up onto the curb, safely cradling the flowers against his shoulder, Ciel's coffee in one hand, and the bag of sweets in another. His heart rattles around in his chest, surprisingly fast. He hasn't been this nervous in years - he feels like a fucking teenager asking someone out to Prom, with slick hands and a dry mouth.

Sebastian makes it to the intercom and tries to relax, tries to imagine his feet on the floor like Paula had said, body relaxing into a state of comfort. He is in control, he is calm, and he is confident. He presses the button to Ciel's flat, the bag of sweets slipping down to his elbow. 

"Ciel?" he murmurs, "it's me. I want to talk to you, and I have some stuff to give you."

He chews on his bottom lips as seconds pass, and the intercom crackles to life with Ciel's voice, thick and harsh. "Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" The line goes dead, and Sebastian is left standing in shock, brows drawn and mouth slightly open.

_What the fuck?_

Sebastian presses the button again, licking nervously at his top teeth. "Ciel, have I done something wrong?" He is standing with his body nearly pressed against the buzzer, ears going numb with cold. When there is no answer, Sebastian presses it again, teeth clenching. "Ciel, if I've done something, please tell me. I want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you! I already tried and you - you didn't fucking answer!" There are tears in Ciel's voice, his sinuses thick. "I went over to your flat earlier - you didn't answer me. Even... even if you hated me, I just wanted you to tell me. That's all I wanted, and you didn't answer! You left me standing out there like an idiot!"

Sebastian makes stuttering, unintelligible noises in his throat, shaking his head from side to side. "What - I've been out all day! I've been getting things for you, that I thought you would like, because I - I wanted... I wanted to ask you out," he says with a sigh, adjusting his grip on the coffee cup. "I got you sweets, and I - I went to three different coffee shops because I couldn't find a drink that I thought you would like, and, and I got you flowers and my car's engine stopped working so I took a taxi to get here, because I want this, really bad. More than anything else I've ever wanted before."

He presses his forehead against the intercom, finger still holding onto the button. "Please, Ciel," he murmurs, voice barely a whisper, "just let me in." He grinds his teeth together, ready to smash his fucking forehead against the intercom so hard that it cracks his skull open and he dies, right then and there, but, before he can do it, there is a buzz. 

"All right," Ciel says softly as Sebastian steps back in shock, "come on up."


	8. heavenly feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian and Ciel have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok the whole parallel seb vs ciel shit is over because its a Bitch to write. this chap may have smut in it? i havent written it yet, so i will decide as we go. hope you all liked the last chapter and that youre all well, as always
> 
> edit: dear past saralyn, yes, there is smut. love, future saralyn.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

"They're beautiful," Ciel says of the flowers clutched in Sebastian's arm. He'd already put the coffee and sweets away. His eyes are wet and red rimmed. "I don't think I have a vase; will a glass do?" It's not really a question, and he doesn't wait for Sebastian to answer - just leaves him standing in front of the door, like he's a stranger afraid to come in. Ciel returns shortly with a mason jar filled halfway with water; it sloshes around against the glass, spilling onto the floor as Ciel carelessly walks back to Sebastian.

Sebastian clenches his teeth, tongue working against the backs of them. "I want to talk to you, Ciel," he says, voice stern, head tilted down to look at Ciel. "Don't shut me out. We need to talk about everything."

Ciel's hands tremble as he tucks the stems of the flowers into the jar, and he does not look at Sebastian. "I don't want to talk about it," he whispers, "I want to go to bed. You can see yourself out." He turns away from Sebastian, moving towards the sitting room with the flowers held against his stomach.

Sebastian grabs Ciel by the bicep, spinning him around so they are face-to-face. He holds Ciel by the shoulders, bending down so that their noses brush, the flowers and the jar crushed between their bodies. "Look at me!" he yells, voice tight and tense. "I like you, Ciel! You've fucking snuck into my brain and you've made a home in there. I think about you first thing in the morning, and you even haunt my dreams while I'm sleeping. You have  _no idea_ what I've been through today, and it's because you weren't there!"

He swallows, straightens up, does not let go of Ciel's shoulders. "You balance out my life, kid. When you're not around me, I'm - I'm agitated, angry. I've yelled at so many people today, and I feel like I've ground my teeth to dust." His hands are shaking. "I don't like... not being around you. I like it when you're by my side, Ciel. I feel... I feel at peace when I'm near you."

"I was afraid you thought I was a freak," Ciel murmurs, silent tears dripping down his cheeks. "That you hated me. I don't know what I would do if you hated me. Ever since you've come into my life... it's been easier." He looks up at Sebastian, eyes like an ocean, glimmering with tears. "You've helped me come out of my shell. I'm friends with Alois and Lizzie again, I made friends with Joker, and the rest of your class seems to like me... If I lost you... I - I'd go back to being a nobody, holed up in my room."

Sebastian wipes his thumb beneath Ciel's eyes, fingers curled around his ear. "You're such a sweet, special young man," he murmurs, "and you deserve the world, and more. I wish I could give it to you, give everything to you."

Ciel reaches up one hand, ever mindful of the flowers still caught between them, and grabs onto Sebastian's fingers, licking his bottom lip. "Just stay," he says, voice a ghost against Sebastian's cheeks, "just stay here... with me." He looks down at the ground, and then his eyes travel up Sebastian's body, and he laughs, looking back up at Sebastian. "Joker was right... he said that you would wear a suit. You look very handsome, like a groom."

Sebastian's brows lift as his eyes widen, mouth quirking into a smile. "If I'm a groom, does that make you my bride?" He pulls the jar from Ciel's fingers and sets it down a table in the sitting room, and only then, does he scoop Ciel up in his arms, bridal style. "You still want me to fuck you?" he asks quietly as they make their way into Ciel's bedroom.

"Yes, but wait! - Shit, too late I guess."

His room looks like a tornado has ripped through it; clothes and books are strewn everywhere, tissues overflow a trash can that sits beside Ciel's bed, littering the floor. Ciel's cheeks turn bright red, and his tears are quickly replaced with giggles, his teeth dug into his bottom lip. "I told you to wait," he murmurs, still in Sebastian's arms, fingers curled against his chest. "I couldn't find anything to wear today."

Sebastian breathes out a laugh and sets Ciel down on the floor, hand at the nape of his neck. "Brides and grooms usually christen their marriage in a nice, clean hotel room, where there's rose petals everywhere and there's champagne and they're pleasantly drunk, red-cheeked and in love," he says, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at Ciel. "Do you want to go back to my place? My room is much cleaner." And then he remembers - the car is at Paula's shop. "Shit," he hisses, fingers curling into his palms. "My car's fucked up. I took a taxi here."

Even though Ciel wants nothing more than to get naked and have Sebastian fuck away all his stress and worries, he wants to do it in a nice, clean room that doesn't look like it's from an episode of Hoarders. His lips curl up into a soft smile, and looks up at Sebastian. "Can I borrow your phone? I know someone who will give us a ride."

 -

The car ride to Sebastian's apartment is deathly silent. Ciel sits next to Joker in the passenger seat, and Sebastian sits in the back, his knees pressing into the back of Ciel's seat.

"Thank you," Ciel says quietly, desperate for some kind of noise. Joker doesn't have a working radio, and the heat system smells like burning hair. "You've done so much for me today. I'm very grateful, and I wish I could repay you somehow-"

"I already told you," Joker interrupts, knuckles white around the steering wheel, "you don't need to do anything for me. I'm doing it to be kind." His jaw pulses, and Ciel shrinks into his seat, glances in the side mirror to see if he can see Sebastian - he can't. 

No one speaks for the rest of the ride, and as soon as Ciel and Sebastian are safely out of the car, Joker speeds off, tires squealing behind him. 

Ciel and Sebastian exchange silent glances, and then they make a beeline for the elevator. Sebastian has his hand on the back of Ciel's neck again, and Ciel can only think of what it would be like if Sebastian choked him -  _lightly! Not to death. He's like twice my size, and definitely a lot stronger than I am._ He licks his lips and jiggles in place impatiently. "Can you make the elevator go any faster?"

"Unfortunately not, little one," Sebastian says, and his voice is so fucking hot and husky that it's taking every ounce of Ciel's being to not jerk off in the elevator. "But - if you've been waiting this long, I assume you can wait a few more minutes. And, I do have some rules, in the bedroom."

Ciel rolls his eyes, watching the floor light get closer and closer to the seventh bubble. "You and your fuckin' rules," he mutters, "I just want to get fucked."

Sebastian snickers, squeezes Ciel's neck lightly. "The rules are as follows: I'm always in control. If things get too rough, we will create a safe word, because I don't want to hurt you. And lastly, you're not allowed to be quiet." His throat works through a swallow when the elevator doors open. "I want you to be as loud as you can. The walls here are made of concrete and other kinds of thick shit - they're practically soundproof."

"All right, all right," Ciel says, pushing on Sebastian as they head towards his door. "Hurry, please!" He bites his bottom lip as Sebastian fishes his key from his pocket, and takes a deep breath in.  _If I die, I'll die horny, and that's how I want to go._ He stands up on his tip-toes, fingers curled around Sebastian's shoulder, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Please, Daddy," he whispers, settling back down to the ground.

Sebastian practically kicks the door in, scooping Ciel up in his arms again. The door clicks heavily behind them and Ciel is giggling as Sebastian practically sprints to the bedroom, tossing him gently onto the bed. His eyes are dark, dilated with arousal. "Clothes, off, now." He kicks his shoes off and yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it carelessly behind him, only stopping when he notices that Ciel is not getting undressed.

Instead, he is staring at the wall ahead, eyes filled with tears again. "You took down the painting," he says quietly, voice cracking when he looks at Sebastian. "Did you take it down... for me?"

Sebastian's fingers freeze against his buttons. "You're a part of it," he replies, looking at Ciel softly. "The other part is because he's been dead for fifteen years and... sometimes, you just need to let go." He swallows, jaw pulsing. "Are you going to ruminate on the decor of my bedroom, or are you going to get undressed and let me have my way with you?"

"But, wait," Ciel murmurs, fluttering his lushes coquettishly, "I thought we would christen this with rose petals... and champagne. Please?"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Sebastian groans, fingers slipping off of his zipper. "I don't have any rose petals, but I do have some _Dom_ in the fridge. Is that fine with you?"

Ciel pulls his sweater off over his head, feeling suddenly bold. "That's fine. And we won't need any glasses. And I'll be naked when you come back." He watches as Sebastian slinks out of the room and begins to get undressed as quickly as he can. He sits on the floor to pull his shoes off, which are quickly followed by his socks, jeans, and underwear. Ciel clambers up onto Sebastian's bed, laying on his side, one hand at his hip, the other one propped behind his head.

He hears Sebastian padding down the hall, and his rush of boldness is gone, the tips of his ears go red. But he doesn't move. He stays exactly the way he is, reveling in the smile that splits Sebastian's face when he enters the room with an open bottle of champagne.

"Well, well, well, Rose, what will Jack say when he finds out that I have every intention of fucking you?" He sets the bottle on the nightstand and his hands move towards his zipper, but Ciel cries out and leaps off the bed, dropping to his knees in front of Sebastian.

He licks his lips, staring up at the older man, his big blue eyes earnest and dilated. "I've always wanted to do this, so can I?" he asks, straightening up so that he is eye level with Sebastian's zipper, which is what he gingerly leans forward to take in his teeth, pulling it down to the end. His lips are shiny with spit, and he pulls Sebastian's slacks and boxers down in one fluid moment, freeing Sebastian's cock.

"Fuck," Ciel murmurs as Sebastian steps out of his clothes. "You're huge." He moves to grab for it, but Sebastian swiftly pulls him to his feet and sits him on the bed. "Wha- why?"

Sebastian's brows draw together in mock humor as he sits beside Ciel, like they're both not naked with raging erections. "You said you wanted champagne first. I opened a two-hundred-dollar bottle of _Dom Perignon_ for you, so we're going to drink until you're good and warm, all right?" He holds the bottle out to Ciel, whose lips go from a pout to a full fledged smile, until they are wrapped around the mouth of the bottle.

He tips the bottle back to get a mouthful and then moves to straddle Sebastian, who inhales sharply. Ciel leans in for a kiss, and when their mouths meet, Ciel opens his mouth and allows champagne to dribble into Sebastian's, trickling down his chest. Ciel grins as Sebastian swallows what's in his mouth, and lowers his head to lick the spilled alcohol off of Sebastian's chest, tongue dragging all the way down to the dark curls that gather at the top of Sebastian's cock, only to be pulled up by his hair.

"What did I tell you?" Sebastian murmurs, flipping Ciel over onto his back, his fingers stilled curled into Ciel's hair. He wedges his knee between Ciel's thighs, and he cries out loudly, cheeks going red. "I'm sorry, Ciel, I didn't hear that. Maybe you didn't hear my question, so I'll say it again. What is my first rule?" 

Ciel has to swallow hard, remembering how to speak. "You're - you're a-aalways in charge." He's panting, even though he's barely been touched. He feels pathetic, but he wants this,  _needs_ this.

Sebastian hums lowly in his throat. "Good boy," he murmurs, lifting the bottle up to his lips before pulling Ciel up to his lips, their cocks brushing, electric heat running through their veins. Ciel's mouth opens in a cry and Sebastian kisses him hard, champagne flowing down their bodies. "Go on," he murmurs, holding the bottle out to Ciel. "Drink, Ciel. This is what you wanted. This is what I want. So, drink."

It takes about ten minutes of passing the bottle back forth and kissing and touching for Ciel's body to get warm and fuzzy. His chest flushes red and he suddenly becomes much quieter, nibbling at Sebastian's ear, murmuring sweet nothings into it, traipsing his fingers up and down Sebastian's neck, along his collarbones, down his chest. "I want you to fuck me now," he says, body incredibly warm against Sebastian's.

"What do good boys say, Ciel, when they ask for something?" Sebastian is spreading Ciel's body out onto the bed, arms up over his head, feet separated.

"They say _please,_ " Ciel breathes, watching at Sebastian moves to the bedside table, where he brings out a hot pink bottle of lube and a pack of condoms.

Sebastian tilts his head, spilling some of the lube onto his fingers. "And, did you say please?" he asks, not looking at Ciel.

His voice is hot, taunting. If Ciel's body gets any warmer, he feels like he'll catch on fire. "No," he murmurs, fingers curling into the soft burgundy sheets of Sebastian's bed.

"No, what?" Sebastian says, looking directly at Ciel now. One of his eyebrows is cocked, and if looks could kill, Ciel would be dead on sight. 

Ciel licks his bottom lip. "No, sir, I didn't say  _please._ " He watches as Sebastian begins to pump his cock, eyes heavily lidded. " _Please,_ fuck me, Sebastian," Ciel murmurs, his body begging to be touched, begging to be kissed, to be fucked into the bed so hard that it cracks Ciel's bones.

"Good boy," Sebastian purrs as he rolls on a condom in one slick motion, and then climbs on top of Ciel. In the dim light that creeps in through the curtains, Sebastian looks like a God, his body soft and firm at the same time, eyes glinting, teeth like slices of moonlight in his mouth. He kisses Ciel as he slips in a finger, curling it just so that it makes Ciel's stomach muscles tighten, his ribs like piano keys beneath his skin. "What safe word do you want to use?" Sebastian murmurs against Ciel's neck, now curling three fingers inside of him, his cock catching against Sebastian's stomach.

Tears have begun to brim in Ciel's eyes as heat gathers in his abdomen. He pants in time with Sebastian's fingers, in and out, weak little whines slipping from his ruby-red mouth. "H-ho-oo-oney," Ciel struggles to get out, his hips bucking up towards Sebastian's skin, desperate for any kind of friction. He drags his blunt nails over Sebastian's bicep, sucking in a breath through his teeth. "Pl-please, please, fuck me, Sebastian, pl-eee-ease- Daddy!"

"Little minx," Sebastian growls as he pulls his fingers out and slips his cock in in one fluid motion, an action that makes Ciel's toes curl, his head thrown back, fingers gripped into the sheets.

"Oo-oh, fffu-uuck," he whines, barely audible over the sound of the headboard hitting the wall.

Sebastian pulls Ciel into a sitting position, his thin legs wrapped around Sebastian's waist, bucking quickly beneath him. "Is this what you wanted?" Sebastian asks, trailing biting kisses along Ciel's neck, along his shoulder. He bites particularly hard on Ciel's collarbone, making him cry out loudly, his fingers tangling in Sebastian's hair. "Answer me - fuck - Ciel."

"Ye-es, sir," Ciel gasps, his ass making slapping sounds against Sebastian's thighs. "I - I thought - ooooh, Go-oo-od - about this! all the time, since I me-shit-met you!" He sits up on his knees, riding Sebastian as hard as he can, arms curled around Sebastian's neck. "I, I've b-been re-eee-ally bad when I th-think about yo-o-u."

Sebastian flips Ciel over onto his stomach, ass in the air, his hands pinned behind his back as Sebastian continues to fuck into him. "I'm gonna - gonna make you really bad, baby," he pants against Ciel's neck, leaning forward so that his chest is pressed against Ciel's shoulder blades. "Call me Daddy again." He curls his fingers into Ciel's hair and tugs his head backwards so that he has access to Ciel's Adam's apple, soft and dainty, just like the rest of him.

"D-Daddy," Ciel whines, eliciting high pitched, squealing sounds that Sebastian seems to love, his index and middle fingers slipping into Ciel's mouth, spit dribbling between the digits and down his chin, making dark spots on the bed. "More, Daddy,  _please,_ " he begs, voice beginning to go hoarse.

"You little slut," Sebastian hisses as he fucks Ciel harder, harder, harder, mentally recording all of the sounds that Ciel makes so that he can replay them in his head later at night and jack off like a teenager. "You're Daddy's little slut, though, aren't you?" He's being rude, crueler than usual - and some soft part of him hopes that Ciel knows that it's the sex talking, his cock getting more blood than his brain, while another hard part of him hopes that Ciel likes it, wants more of it.

Ciel nods, his dark hair beginning to stick to his face - whether it's sweat or drool, Sebastian can't tell, but he makes a mental note to maybe cum on Ciel's face one day - mouth open enough for Sebastian to see his teeth, for him to hear Ciel speak. "I'm - I'm Da-aa-ddy's little sl-slut," he says, hands tightening into fists behind his back. Drool puddles onto the bed, and Sebastian has to breathe evenly, or as evenly as he can. 

He reaches around and grabs Ciel's cock, jerking it in time with his thrusts. "Do you want to cum?" Sebastian asks, voice hushed against Ciel's ear. "Do you want me to make you cum?"

Once again, Ciel does his best to nod, face smushed into the sheets. "Yes, sir," he manages to moan out, hips rolling back against Sebastian, who quickens both the pace of his own hips and hand, eyes shut when Ciel - his boy - begins to breathe faster and faster, whines increasing in speed and pitch until he is crying out some conglomerate of curse words and Sebastian's name.

White flashes in Sebastian's vision as he feels Ciel cum all over his hand and against the sheets, and the soft panting of Ciel beneath him is what sets him over the edge, tipping his head back as he cums, harder than he's ever cum before. He pulls out of Ciel and sits up to take the condom off, knotting it and tossing it into the trash can before collapsing beside Ciel, who is still laying in his own cum and spit.

"Are you all right?" he murmurs, curling his body against Ciel's, even though they are both sticky with champagne and bodily fluids and sweat - he doesn't care. 

"'m okay," Ciel murmurs, his breathing beginning to even out. "I'm just... sleepy now."

Sebastian hums in his throat, combing his fingers through Ciel's damp hair. "Well, how about we get in the shower so we can rinse off, I change the sheets, and then we can sleep. What do you think about that, kitten?"

"Sounds good to me," Ciel says, voice calm and even. His eyes are closed, and he makes no moves to get up.

Sebastian chuckles softly, biting into his lower lip.  _I could definitely fall in love with this kid._

_-_

"I feel like I've been hit by a truck." Ciel is sitting up in Sebastian's bed, the duvet drawn close around his body, pale legs peeking out from beneath it. He watches as Sebastian is getting ready for class, tugging on a black sweater over top a white button down, its winged collar sticking out underneath the round neck of the sweater.

He turns around, straightening out his clothes, looking at Ciel. "Well, we've spent the last two days fucking, so it's no wonder that you look like you've been... beaten up." Sebastian crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, sliding his fingers beneath Ciel's chin, lifting it up gently so that he can better access the blue-purple damage that litters his skin, paired with blood-red teeth marks - and Sebastian knows for a fact that there are finger shaped bruises against Ciel's thighs and biceps. "Are you sure you want to come to class with me?"

Ciel smiles, curling his fingers around Sebastian's hand, pulling it into his lap. "You made a big mistake in asking me out," he murmurs, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips, "you're never going to get me to leave your side."

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Sebastian replies softly, pressing a kiss into Ciel's hairline. "All right, go get dressed. You can wear anything of mine that you want, but I did wash your sweater, jeans, and underwear this morning before you woke up."

Lifting his brows slightly, Ciel lets out a chuckle and wobbly gets out of bed, gripping onto the edge for support. "Who's the bride now?" he asks, letting out a high pitched squeal when Sebastian slaps his ass, hard enough for it to echo around the room. "Cheeky!" he scolds, walking over to the standing mirror perched against the wall to fully access the damage.

His neck is mottled with angry, purple-red-blue blotches that resemble Sebastian's mouth, dried bite marks along his collarbones that match Sebastian's teeth, bruises around his biceps and wrists and thighs that are definitely in the shape of Sebastian's fingers. "Christ," he murmurs, "I  _look_ like I've been hit by a truck. Do you own any turtlenecks or anything?" He twists his head from side to side, filled with giddiness over being this marked up - it's like he belongs to Sebastian.

"Am I a middle-aged man that collects stamps?" Sebastian asks from the closet, rustling around inside for something for Ciel to wear, and then he peeks his head around the corner, smiling gently. "Don't answer that question."

Ciel pouts, tiptoeing over behind Sebastian, slipping his arms around Sebastian's waist, chin digging into his back. "Why don't we just skip class, huh? Just for today? I'm sure you're not completely spent yet." His voice is light and lilting, and Ciel's chest swells when Sebastian covers his hands with his, letting out a deep sigh.

"You know, kitten, as much as I would love to stay in bed all day and fuck you, I have a responsibility to the kids, you know that." He turns around, cupping Ciel's face in his hands. "And I'd like to spend as much time with you as I can this morning, because I have a shoot tonight. With Ran-mao." He softly pats Ciel's cheek. "Get dressed, love." He pulls Ciel's underwear and jeans from a neatly folded little pile on the counter, helps him get into them.

"What's your favorite sweater?" Ciel asks, arms crossed over his bare chest. "I want to wear the one that you like the most."

Sebastian hums in his throat, running a hand through his hair, observing his closet. "My favorite sweater?" he murmurs, licking at his bottom lip inquisitively as he leans forwards to rummage around, eventually coming out with an off-white, cable knit sweater that is speckled through with little dots the color of the rainbow. Its sleeves are stretched out and slightly frayed, probably from years of wear. "I'd have to say this one," he says, taking it off of the hanger and handing it to Ciel. "I bought it when I moved to London. Before I started teaching."

Ciel holds it in his hands gingerly, heart pounding so hard he can hear it in his ears. As he pulls it on, Ciel imagines Sebastian as a twenty-four year old in London, fresh-faced, grateful for all his accomplishments and all he's done - and then he imagines Doll, imagines him yelling at Sebastian, hands curled into fists, tears streaming down his face. Ciel's heart lurches in his chest and he steps forward, pressing his face against Sebastian's chest, eyes squeezed shut. 

"Oh- what's this for?" Sebastian combs his fingers through the strands of hair that tickle the nape of Ciel's neck, and then presses a kiss against the crown of his head. 

"You're a good man," Ciel murmurs against his sweater, fingers tugged into its back. "You're such a good person, and I know that you don't give yourself enough credit for all that you've done." He lifts his head, doesn't let go of Sebastian, eyes wide and watery. "I think you see the best in people that feel like they're the worst, and you try to get them to see it for themselves."

Sebastian exhales softly, his fingers curling at the nape of Ciel's neck, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss, nothing like the sucking and biting his mouth had done for the past two days. "You've really brightened up, since the first time I met you. You seemed so small and scared and soft, but every day, it's like I'm getting to know more and more about you. How will you surprise me today?"

"I dunno," Ciel says as he leans in for another kiss, one more, just one more,  _please._ "But, maybe you could surprise me by helping me to cover these hickeys that you've so bountifully bestowed upon me?" He tugs the neck of his sweater down slightly, brows lifted. "Seriously, Sebastian! There's absolutely nothing on you - it's like you did all the work and I received all of the damage!"

Chuckling softly, Sebastian pushes Ciel back down onto the bed, pressing a knee in between his thighs. "I don't want you to cover them," he murmurs, lips pressed against Ciel's neck, breath hot and ticklish against Ciel's skin. "I want people to know that you're mine. Hear me, Ciel?  _Mine._ "

Ciel's toes curl as Sebastian sucks a fresh hickey just next to the hollow of his throat. His fingers curl up into Sebastian's hair, never wanting him to leave. "Yours," he whispers breathlessly, squeezing his eyes shut when Sebastian chuckles against his neck, lips curling up slightly.  _I could fall in love with you. I could definitely fall in love with you._

-

"Has anyone seen Joker this morning?" Sebastian stands at the head of the room with the class roll clipboard in hand, eyes narrowed. He surveys the large majority of  _no's_ that echo around the room, and bounces his head in acknowledgement. "All right," he says after he exhales loudly, "since you've all been doing so well lately, I've made a kind of... photography scavenger hunt for you all to do. Break up into either pairs or groups of three - I don't care, but everyone needs to have a partner - and grab a list off of the front desk. Don't forget your lanyards, I don't want to get yelled at." He collapses into his seat besides Ciel, rubbing briefly at his eyes before standing back up, yelling out, "and be quiet in the halls!" after them.

Ciel's lips curl up into a confused smile as Sebastian takes a seat beside him, sighing heavily. "When did you have the time to do all of that?" he asks, squeezing Sebastian's thigh. "Are you, like, a wizard or something, and you just haven't told me?"

Sebastian shakes his head softly, taking Ciel's hand in his own. "No, you're just a very heavy sleeper, and I use it to my advantage - to wash your clothes and make scavenger hunts for my class of twenty year olds." He massages Ciel's palm with the pads of his thumbs, strong and calloused. "Where do you think Joker is?"

"How should I know?" Ciel asks, sniffing out a laugh as he leans his head against Sebastian's shoulder. "He's probably at home, sleeping or something. I mean, he's what, twenty? It's not like this is a required class, and I remember not going to a lot of required classes as a twenty year old."

Sebastian tilts his head so he can see Ciel better, one brow lifted. "Oh yeah? What were you doing instead of going to your classes?" His lips pull up into a smile. "I bet you were some wild, naughty, party boy that liked to get drunk and used your little twink wiles to get things that you wanted from the football club at your university."

"Twink wiles?" Ciel lets out a gasp, pretending to be shocked. "I hardly think I'm a twink!"

Sebastian leans over, mouth just against Ciel's ear. "You're twenty-three, dating a thirty-seven year old that you often refer to as  _Daddy,_ and you're about the size of a toddler." He nestles beside Ciel, grateful for their closeness. "No, but really - I want to know what you were like. Sloppy drunk football hooligan?"

Ciel scoffs, nudging Sebastian's shoulder gently with his own. "Not even close," he murmurs, a smile hinting at his lips, "I was usually hiding in the library, getting lost in Neruda or something like that." He hums in his throat, eyes closed. "I love you like this because I don't know any other way to love, except in this form which I am not nor are you, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams."

" _Sonnet XVII_ ," Sebastian murmurs, and Ciel lifts his head up, brows raised. "What? You think you're the only one that likes poetry? I always preferred Dickinson, myself - but my favorite poem has to be _Moon-Lover_  by Robert William Service."

Ciel presses a kiss to Sebastian's chin, smiling softly. "Tell me your favorite part," he murmurs, and it's just them in the whole world, sitting side by side, fingers touching skin just for the feeling of contact, nothing sexual but extremely intimate. 

Sebastian's lips curl into a smile, and he tilts his head slightly, eyes locked on Ciel. "In all of spangled space but I, to stare moonstruck into the sky; of billion beings I alone to praise the moon as still as stone." He shifts in his chair, sliding his hand beneath Ciel's jaw. "And seal a bond between us two, closer than mortal ever knew; for as mute masses I intone-" his voice lowers and his mouth brushes Ciel's- "the moon is mine, and mine alone."

They are so caught up in one another that neither hears the door pull open, but they definitely hear the intake of breath, and the quiet, "I  _knew_ it!"


	9. cars and telephones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cat's out of the bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hohohoho hello i hope you all liked that last chapter because i was like a writing fiend, a writing mad man! as always, thank you all for your lovely lovely comments (pls keep them coming they feed my incredibly fragile ego)
> 
> make sure to tell your mom hi and tell her that i say hi - if you have a shitty mom like i do, im your mom now - and have a glass of water. stay hydrated. go wash your face, brush your teeth. look after yourself.
> 
> also, sorry this took so long to get out - i had ANOTHER seizure on sunday because my body hates me and is trying to overthrow me as its owner. hope you're all not too upset. as repayment (and mostly for my own self-pleasure): more smut + warm goopy fluff
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Sullivan is in the doorway, her wheelchair perched half in and half out, green eyes wide with surprise. "I knew it," she murmurs again, just loud enough for Ciel and Sebastian to hear, and a smile splits her face. She rolls closer to them, giggling like a kid on Christmas. "I knew you two were together - Wolfram owes me twenty pound!"

Sebastian seems to deflate, body relaxing as he leans against Ciel's shoulder, smiling lazily. "Oh, Sullivan," he murmurs, "it's just you. Have you finished the scavenger hunt yet?" His eyes narrow, and he looks around the room, brows drawing in confusion. "Where is your partner?" he asks, head tilted ever so slightly.

"I didn't have one," she says after clearing her throat, color rising into her pale cheeks. "I - uh, I much rather prefer to do things on my own. And, yes, sir, I have finished the scavenger hunt." She presses her lips together and wheels over to Sebastian's desk, setting her SD card down. "I'm afraid most of them aren't very good, but I did try my best-"

"You were supposed to have a partner," Sebastian says, crossing his arms over his chest, one brow lifted. "I believe I made that very clear, Sullivan. I was under the impression that a twenty year old as smart and as capable as you would be able to follow my directions. Was I wrong?"

Sullivan glances around the room, eyes like green ping-pong balls bouncing around in their sockets. "No one wanted to be my partner," she says, voice barely audible, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. "I asked a few different people, and they all said that - that they already had partners." She wipes at her eyes with her wrist, sniffing hard. "It's fine, though, really. I'm used to it, it's not the first time that it's happened and it surely won't be the last."

Ciel discreetly digs his elbows into the spot just below Sebastian's ribs, teeth together. "Say something to make her feel better," he hisses, "stop being an asshole."

Sebastian flinches away from Ciel's incredibly sharp elbow, and lets out a small sigh, his features softening. "Forgive me, Sullivan. I understand, and I'll have a small, very general talk with the class and see to it that my directions are followed, by everyone, whether they like it or not." He picks up her SD card, holding it in between his index and middle fingers like a cigarette. "Now, you said that you think most of your photos aren't good, but I beg to differ. I think you're a very qualified photographer, and you're certainly one of the best in the class."

She inhales through her nose, fists clenching in her lap. "You really think so?" 

"I do," Sebastian says, "and the next time that we have one of these little activities that require a partner, I'm going to send Ciel out with you. Perhaps you could teach him a few things about the camera, and even about photography, because he knows absolutely nothing, useless little bugger." He turns his head towards Ciel, a grin on his face. "Would you like that Ciel?"

Ciel nods vigorously, grabbing hold of Sebastian's thigh, squeezing as hard as he can. "I would, as a matter of fact. Sullivan, you seem like a very sweet person, and we're close in age, so I'll probably have more things in common to talk about with you than I would with this geriatric tyrant." He smiles genuinely at her, cheeks rising with the motion.

"I think I would like that," she murmurs quietly, tucking a long strand of black hair behind her ear. "Thank you, Mr. Michaelis - and thank you, Ciel. You've adjusted to our class quite well, I think. Oh, and trust me, your secret is safe with me. I won't tell anyone that you're together. Although, most of us figured."

Sebastian's lips curl up into a smile, and he leans his body against Ciel's once more, winning a soft sigh from the latter. "It's not really a secret, though. I don't mind if people know, but if you'd like to keep this just between the three of us, I would like that as well."

Ciel makes a small sound in the back of his mouth, fingers briefly touching at Sebastian's wrist, moving closer so that their knees are touching. "Actually," he murmurs, fingers catching onto the sleeve of Sebastian's sweater, tugging gently, "Joker knows. And he knows about the shoots." 

" _Oh,_ " Sebastian breathes, standing up, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Does he now?" His throat works through a swallow, and he nods briefly, tongue sucking at his teeth. "Sullivan, dear, it's always lovely to see you, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow - um, but I have to go, uh, sort some things out. I know that Wolfram waits for you outside, so you're free to go. I'll deal with everyone tomorrow." 

Sullivan's eyes go wide, and she nods, nervously, brows drawn tight in confusion, but she doesn't speak or ask any questions, just gives a soft wave and wheels herself out of the room.

"Fuck," Sebastian hisses, tugging at the roots of his hair as he walks back behind the desk. Before Ciel can figure anything out, Sebastian on the phone that is affixed to his desk, fingers drumming nervously. "Yes, Diederich, it's Sebastian. Uh, I'm afraid something very personal has come up, and I need to leave immediately. However, my entire class is on a... fucking scavenger hunt that I sent them on." He grits his teeth in anger, walking back and forth in a small rut. "Yes, I understand- no, I get it. I was just wondering if you could step into my classroom for a few moments, just to see to it that they put the equipment away cor- Excuse me? Diederich, I'm not asking you to fucking drive to America. You're two rooms away from me."

His free hand clenches into a fist and then flutters up towards his brow. "All right, whatever you want, just- just get over here as soon as I make the announcement for them to come back." He slams the phone down into its cradle, inhaling deeply through his nose, eyes closed. "Cunt."

"Sebastian? What's going on?"

Ciel is worried - he's never seen Sebastian like this before, except for the other day when he was frantically trying to describe his adventures to Ciel. Sebastian is cool, suave, calm and classy. The Sebastian-lookalike that stands before him is red-cheeked and beginning to perspire, grinding his teeth at one-hundred-sixty kilometers per hour.

"Hang on just a second, kitten," Sebastian says, picking the phone back up, grip so white-knuckled that Ciel is scared he'll break its handle. "Yes, Mey-rin, I need you to send out a broadcast for me. Uh-huh. Got one? All right, tell my class that I'm leaving for a personal matter, and to get their asses back to room 306 immediately. Tell them that Diederich will watching them for a few seconds, and I expect everything to be perfect when I get in tomorrow. That's it. Thanks, love." He hangs up for the second time and sucks in air through his teeth.

Ciel stands up, fingers curling anxiously around the edge of the desk. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" He watches as Sebastian busies himself gathering his things, pausing only briefly to listen to Mey-rin's voice crackle over the overhead speaker, relaying his message in a much nicer way. "Sebastian!"

"Come with me," Sebastian says, grabbing Ciel rather roughly by the wrist, dragging him out into the hallway and down the three flights of stairs, messenger bag banging in between them annoyingly. "Look," he says when they get out to the car, Sebastian repeatedly pressing the unlock button, pushing Ciel faster by the small of his back, "I told you that I liked to keep my two work lives separate, remember? There's a good reason for that." 

He starts up the car and streaks out onto the road, earning a few honks and an earful of swears through open windows. "The majority of the staff here is... aware of my history, with Doll. I've managed to hide my second business quite well from them, but - FUCKING MOVE! - if word gets out that I not only have another job as a fetish photographer, but I also have a twenty-three year old model who also happens to currently be in my company, it would look... very bad, as a teacher of other twenty year old students, in a center practically crawling with twenty year old students."

"In your company?" Ciel repeats, lips drawn back in disgust. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You're my boyfriend - you can say it, you know."

Sebastian lets out a sigh, shaking his head. "Sorry, Ciel, it just sounds a little... ridiculous for a thirty-seven year old man to refer to someone as his boyfriend. But, if that's what you want, fine." He turns his head from side to side and then guns the car down the street, teeth together. "If Joker has seen the shoots, more importantly, has seen  _your_ shoots, it could put everything in jeopardy for me. Teaching is my passion, you know, I - I love being able to help the students find out what they love to do, but... the photography is my life."

He licks his bottom lip, and it takes everything in Ciel's body to keep from climbing over the gearshift to kiss him.

"Photography is how I got my life back on track, Ciel, and I - I don't know what I would do without either one of my jobs. I've found a way to incorporate my passion into my life, but... if word gets out about what I do - about what I've been doing, for... the past thirteen years... I don't know what I do. I don't know what I can bear to lose." He curves the car around a corner so quickly that Ciel has to hold on the side handle for dear life. "Which," Sebastian continues, careening into a tidy looking flat complex that Ciel has never seen before, "is why we're going straight to the source. To nip this in the bud."

Ciel's brows knit together as Sebastian pulls into a parking lot just in front of a block of flats. "I'm not quite sure I follow," he murmurs, unbuckling his seat belt.

"This is Joker's flat," Sebastian says, climbing out of the car and motioning for Ciel to do the same. "I'm going to have a little chat with him, just to make sure that this doesn't escalate into anything that he can't handle."

"How do you know where he lives?" Ciel asks, grabbing onto the back of Sebastian's sweater as they jog up the stairs to the main floor. 

Sebastian scoffs, buzzing the door. "I'm his teacher, pigeon. I have access to all of his records and personal information, like where he currently lives." He lets out a sigh and buzzes the door again, slipping his hand behind Ciel's neck - whether it's for his comfort or for Sebastian's, Ciel isn't sure, but he doesn't mind. He thankful to be at Sebastian's side, thankful to be near him, thankful that he broke his own rule.

Joker's voice crackles through the speaker, startling Ciel. "Who is it?" he asks. His voice is harsh and raspy, like he's suddenly gone hoarse. 

"It's Mr. Michaelis," Sebastian says, adopting a stern tone, shoulders straight. "I have something to discuss with you, so, please, open the door."

There is a beat of silence, the glissando of Sebastian's fingers against the metal intercom box.

"Now's not... really a good time, Mr. Michaelis," Joker responds, and Ciel tugs at Sebastian's sleeve, shaking his head.

Sebastian lets out a sigh, carding his fingers through Ciel's hair. "I'm afraid that I can't take no for an answer, Joker. It won't take up much of your time, I promise. I just need to discuss one quick thing, and then I'll be on my way."

Another few seconds of silence. Then, a sigh. "Fine, but please make it quick. My father is over." The door buzzes open and Sebastian grabs Ciel by the front of his sweater, pulling him along behind him, but Ciel's heels attempt to dig into the crack between the door and the pavement, his fingers latched around Sebastian's wrist.

"I can't go in!" he shouts, trying to pull away from Sebastian, "I promised Joker that I wouldn't tell you! He'll be crushed if I do that!"

Sebastian lets out an irritated sigh, releasing Ciel. "Fine. But wait inside, okay? Wait right here, by this plant." He pushes Ciel in between the corner and a potted ficus by his shoulders, tilting Ciel's chin up so that they make eye contact. "If you move from this spot, I'll punish you, am I understood?" His eyes glint in the bright lighting of the main floor, and Ciel nods his head shakily, mouth going desert dry.

"Yes, sir, you're understood."

Sebastian grins, tugging at Ciel's ear. "All right, be good. I'll be back in two shakes." He inhales through his nose and walks calmly to the elevator, which he decides is taking way too long to get to Joker's flat and  _maybe,_ just maybe, Joker will put up a fight. A fist fight. Sebastian isn't above fighting some shit-mouthed twenty year old that could ruin his whole career with the click of a mouse.

He runs the rest of the way there and bangs, perhaps a bit too loudly, on Joker's door, straightening up as much as he can to make himself seem as big as possible.

There are a few soft rustling noises that come from within the flat, and then Joker yanks the door open, his cheeks flushed. "What do you want, Mr. Michaelis? As I said before, my father is over-"

"I'm aware of that," Sebastian says, cutting him off, "and I'd like to come in. I have something to discuss with you, very briefly and very privately, which I'm not very comfortable doing out here. Now, are you going to let me in, or are you going to make me even more upset than I already am?" There is a smile on his face, but Sebastian's eyes are flat, dead, venomous. He is not playing, and he knows that Joker can sense that - especially given the way that he scrambles with the door's handle, ushering Sebastian inside.

"Joker? Who was at the door?"

Sebastian tilts his head towards a voice coming from the sitting room, observing Joker carefully, watching as he shakes his head, shoulders flinching. "It's my photography teacher, Mr. Michaelis. He just has something to discuss with me; we'll be done in a moment."

"Oh, let him come in here, boy! Let me meet him!"

Joker's jaw clenches, but just the same, he motions with an open palm for Sebastian to enter the sitting room, following close behind him.

There is a man sitting on the couch that is pressed up against the wall, a soft smile on his face. He has round glasses that emphasize his sparkling, owlish eyes, a thick mustache-sideburns combo, and a receding hairline. He sits up a bit straighter when Sebastian gets closer to him, holds out his hand. "You must be Sebastian," he says, as if he's known Sebastian for years and years, not just for .03 seconds.

"Yes, sir," Sebastian says, firmly shaking the man's hand. "I have the pleasure of teaching your son. He's a wonderful student."

The man lets out a laugh, head thrown back. "Please, call me Kelvin. Any man that has had an impact on my rebellious child is a friend of mine."

"Father, please," Joker says, a bit harshly, teeth clenched together. "Mr. Michaelis came all this way to speak to me, not to become friends with you. We'll be done in just a second." His brows knit together as he grabs Sebastian's wrist and pulls him out of the sitting room, into another room just a few steps away, something small and cramped and littered with posters - this must be Joker's room. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall of Joker's room. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I know that you know, and I'm not very happy about it. You could put everything in jeopardy for me - and that won't end prettily for you."

Joker sniffs out a scoff, perched on the edge of his bed. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Mr. Michaelis."

"Cut the bullshit, kid. I wasn't born yesterday. If you even think about telling anyone what I do in my spare time, it won't be pretty for you." He pushes off of the wall and crosses over to Joker, leaning over so closely that their noses nearly brush. "And leave Ciel out of this. He's mine, understand? You don't know me as well as you think you do." Sebastian straightens up, smoothing out his shirt. "Don't ever let me catch you talking about my other job or to Ciel ever again, am I understood?"

Joker's jaw pulses. "Yeah," he murmurs, nails cutting into his palms.

Sebastian's lips pull back into an incredibly fake smile. "Good boy," he says, and walks briskly out of Joker's bedroom, waves to Kelvin, and exits their flat.

Ciel is sitting on the bench across from the ficus when Sebastian returns, his feet barely touching the ground, swinging back at forth. He lifts his head when Sebastian clears his throat, cheeks going red. "Welcome back," he says quietly, picking at a hangnail on his left hand. "Did you have a good talk with Joker?"

"I got my point across," Sebastian responds, combing his fingers through Ciel's hair. "And, I believe I said something about punishing you if you moved from this spot?"

Ciel pretends to ponder Sebastian's statement, tapping his index finger against his bottom lip. "That sounds... vaguely familiar," he murmurs, glancing up briefly at Sebastian with those big blue eyes, teeth scraping briefly over his lip. "Maybe you could take me home and... remind me?"

Sebastian runs his tongue over his top teeth, hands in his pockets as he observes Ciel. "Were you this naughty when we first met?" He lifts one brow, holds out a hand to Ciel. "I'll take you home," he says softly, brushing his lips against the nape of Ciel's neck when he's finally on his feet, smiling softly. "You're so beautiful."

"I want you to fuck me even harder than you did the other day," Ciel whispers, turning around and grabbing onto Sebastian's elbow, raising up on his tiptoes for another kiss. "I want it to hurt." He bites his bottom lip gently, peeking up at Sebastian through his lashes. "I want you to let everyone know that I'm yours."

Lips curling into a smile, Sebastian intertwines his fingers through Ciel's. "I believe that that could be arranged," he murmurs, head tilted slightly to the side.

-

The collar that rests around Ciel's neck is made up of pale pink butter leather, his cheeks flushed bright red. "I feel stupid," he murmurs quietly, sprawled out on his bed, arms handcuffed up over his head. "It's hard for me to believe that you've done stuff like this before - I must look ridiculous."

Sebastian lifts his head from where he'd been sucking a hickey on Ciel's inner thigh, an incredulous look on his face, brows knitted. "Are you kidding me?" He kisses up Ciel's stomach, earning a soft whine from the younger male, "you are... so sexy and yet, you've no idea how sexy you are." He kisses Ciel's jaw, teeth scraping against his bottom lip. "You could have any man on his knees, kitten, just by looking at him with those big blue eyes."

Ciel's mouth opens slightly when Sebastian licks up his neck, stopping just behind his ear. "I'm - I'm not sexy," he murmurs, wrists rattling against the bars of the headboard. "You're sexy, you - you're sexy." He rucks his hips upwards into Sebastian's thigh, desperate for any kind of friction, for any kind of touching. "Please, fuck me," Ciel whines, teeth coming together when Sebastian's fingers tighten around his thigh.

"What do good boys say, Ciel?" Sebastian asks, leaning back to loosen his tie, also partially to keep his body out of contact with Ciel's.

Ciel's chest heaves as he pants, struggling against his restraints. "Please, Daddy," he murmurs, veins stranding out taut beneath the pale flesh of his neck, cock straining beneath his boxers.

"Yes, good boys  _do_ say that," Sebastian approves, fingers dancing down the buttons of his shirt, "but I'm afraid that I'm not looking for that one just yet." He slides his body atop Ciel's, their skin hot and cool at the same time, the sensation of their bodies brushing nearly numbing to Ciel. His lips kiss up Ciel's neck, brushing against the side of his mouth. "I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees," he murmurs, voice so fucking husky that Ciel could bust a nut right then and there - he really could, but he doesn't want to give Sebastian the satisfaction.

Instead, he grits his teeth, head tilting backwards into the pillow, biceps trembling minutely against his restraints. "E-every day," he pants, trying to focus on anything except for Sebastian's mouth and fingers roaming around his body, nipping, teasing, "you pl-ah! fuck!- play wi-iii-ith the... light of the uuuni-ii-iverse." Color has risen high in his cheeks, speckled red and pink beneath the mother-of-pearl-ivory of his skin, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

"Good boy," Sebastian praises, his voice emanating from somewhere near Ciel's cock - if he thinks about it, or anything, really, he'll cum. Hard. Everywhere. All over. "Let me  _spread you out_ among yellow garlands." His fingers dip, stretch into Ciel, earning a whine, a high pitched squeal, curling toes. 

"Ffffffuu-uuu-uck," Ciel breathes, and if he tries to tilt his head back any further, he's going to break his fucking neck - he can feel it. "Please, Sebastian," he babbles, mouth cotton-ball dry, "please, just fuck me. I'll do whatev- oh,  _fuck!_ I'll do whatever you want, just ple-eeeee-ease, please, fuck me!"

That does it. In one slick motion, Ciel is emptied and then refilled with something thicker, something warmer; Ciel has never believed in God before, but with Sebastian's cock crammed this deep inside of him, he can  _feel_ God, can _see_ God if he shuts his eyes. God is a woman; she looks like Ciel's mother, ethereal and golden, mouth rosy, eyes bright. She watches with thinly veiled disgust as Ciel hooks his ankles together, tight around Sebastian's waist.

"Oh, God, oh, God!" Ciel cries, voice overlapping with the sound of the headboard hitting the wall.

Sebastian's fingers grip and grab and pull and push and coax all kind of noises out of Ciel, unabashedly, mouth open, teeth like pieces of moonlight in his mouth. "My name is Sebastian," he grunts, fingers knotted into Ciel's hair, pulling his head back as far as it will go without snapping his neck, "but I don't mind the apotheosis." 

If Ciel were of his right mind, he would bark out a laugh, maybe even jab his fingers into Sebastian's side - but he is not wrong. In this moment, Sebastian is a god, a black-hearted bastard with a golden cock. His cum is manna and Ciel thrives off of it, his teeth like the fangs of Eden's snake, sinking into Ciel's flesh to fill him top to toe with the blood of a sinner, gritty black and salty sweet. He does not have it in him to make a joke back, only has the capacity to moan beneath Sebastian, hands curled into fists above his head, pretending that Sebastian's hand is around his throat and not this kitten collar, choking him until stars glimmer in his vision.

Lightning flashes behind the black of his closed eyes, and he cums, white-hot in between their stomachs, toes curling into the sheets. His mouth hangs open and tears of pleasure bead at the corners of his eyes - but Sebastian does not stop. Sebastian keeps going, muttering, murmuring against Ciel's skin, lips moving imperceptibly as if he's praying, but Ciel knows better.

"Speak up," Ciel whispers, breath catching in his throat in time with Sebastian's thrusts, nails leaving little half-moons in Ciel's flesh.

"She was mine, she was mine," Sebastian recites, eyes lifting to meet Ciel's, threatening to burn fire-red out of his skull, "the key was in my fist, my fist was in my pocket, she was mine." He's babbling, thrusts becoming sloppy, uncoordinated as he expends all of his energy fucking into Ciel with everything in his body, murmuring words of Lolita feather-soft into Ciel's ear. "In the course of evocations and schemes to which I had dedicated so many insomnias, I had gradually eliminated all the superfluous blur, and by stacking level upon level of translucent vision, had evolved a final picture."

He collapses, cum warm and sticky inside the condom, against Ciel's chest, head tucked beneath the younger male's chin.

Ciel wants nothing more than to comb his fingers through Sebastian's hair, but since his hands are still useless above his head, he settles on something else. "Naked," Ciel murmurs, "except for one sock and her charm bracelet, spread-eagled on the bed where my philter had failed her - so I foreglimpsed her; a velvet hair ribbon still clutched in her hand; her honey-brown body, with the white negative image of a rudimentary swimsuit patterned against her tan, presented to me its pale breastbuds; in the rosy lamplight, a little pubic floss glistened on its plump hillock."

He wonders what his voice sounds like beneath Sebastian's ear, through his chest, wonders what his heartbeat sounds like. 

If Sebastian made him a philter, Ciel wonders what it would taste like. Probably cinnamon whiskey, chocolate, coffee.

He shuts his eyes, fights back a strange, suddenly overwhelming urge to cry.  _I need you, the reader, to imagine us, for we don't really exist if  you don't._ He loves Sebastian - loves him in a way that is simple, a way that comes from years of being unloved, a way that he should probably keep unspoken until the moment is right; but, there is something gnawing, nagging in Ciel's chest. What if he feels the same way? What if he doesn't? What if Ciel is just a good fuck for him, someone to jerk around and then toss aside?

Ciel shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath through his nose.

"I could fall in love with you, kid," Sebastian murmurs, voice rumbling through Ciel's chest, rattling around against his bones. "I really could - and I, I want you to know, just in case this isn't what you want, if you want something else, someone else. Someone younger, someone who doesn't get his rocks off in the ways that I do." He lifts his head, leans over Ciel, their mouths dangerously close. "You have to tell me what you want. Please, Ciel, I can't read minds... and I don't think that I can handle another heartbreak." If he leans in any closer, their lips with touch. "You have to tell me what you want."

Ciel's voice is so quiet, it's barely there - but he's never been more sure of anything in his entire life. "I want you," he whispers, eyes unblinking, wide, "I want you, now, maybe until forever. I don't know what will happen down the road, but... I know, Sebastian - I know that I want you. All of you - the good parts, the bad parts, the parts that you haven't even shown me yet; I want everything, I want them all." He licks his bottom lip, listens to the sound of his heart thudding in his chest. 

He wants to know what Sebastian's heart sounds like right now. He wishes he had the use of his hands. He'd pull Sebastian into a kiss, crawl inside of his mouth, shimmy down his throat, live inside of Sebastian's stomach. Instead, Ciel closes his eyes, head falling back against the pillow. "I could fall in love with you, too." It's a lie. He's probably already in love with Sebastian, probably fell in love with him the moment that they met in the bar. "I could fall in love with you, too, Sebastian."


	10. i can't make you love me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into Joker's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyooo i hope u all liked the last chap and i hope u all like this chap! sorry it took a little bit longer to get out, its just been a rough couple of weeks. i hope youre all doing well, and i hope you all have a great day!!
> 
> also. i love joker.. and i love the rest of the circus troupe and in this fic, they all (minus joker bc he lives with kelvin and minus doll because well.) live together in a big house and their ages vary and they are all my kids. mainly joker. which is why this chap is about him.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

"I'm an absolute fucking idiot."

Joker sits on the floor in front of the fireplace, head in his hands. "I'm so stupid, Snake. I drove him over to Mr. Michaelis' flat so that they could have sex. I _knew_ , and I did it anyway!" He groans loudly, collapses backwards onto the floor. "Do you just want to do me a huge favor and kill me? Right here, right now? I'll leave everything I own to you if you do this for me."

"No," Snake murmurs, observing Joker from where he sits on the couch, "I don't think that I want to do that." He tilts his head towards the pure black cat that sleeps to his left, softly murmurs, "we wouldn't want to get blood on the floor, would we?"

"I think I love him," Joker continues, hands folded over his stomach. "Does that sound crazy? Like... I haven't even known him that long; fuck, I don't even know anything about him! I don't think I even know his last name." He lets out a low groan, palms pressed into his eyes. "I'm crazy. Hear me, Snake? I've lost my fuckin' mind. Lock me up. Call the white coats to come take me away." He sits up, looks at Snake, brows drawn. "You're not a very good best friend, you know that, right? You're supposed to talk me out of my love-crazed stupor."

Snake lifts one eyebrow, head cocked slightly to the side. "You haven't done anything yet. He probably doesn't know how you feel, because you don't even know how you feel." He turns back to the cat, curls his fingers beneath its chin. "He doesn't know how he feels, does he?"

Joker flops back down, groaning louder. "Stop talking to the fucking cat!" He stretches his arms and legs out limply, staring up at the ceiling. "My life is over. It hasn't even started and it's already over. Maybe I should burn Mr. Michaelis' flat down."

"Discussing arson, are we?" The sound of Dagger's voice brings Joker back into a sitting position, arms looped around his knees. "I'd like to be involved." The fifteen-year-old jumps off of the bottom stair and sits on the couch beside Snake, head in his lap. "Just because I'm younger than you guys, and just because me'n' Snake aren't real brothers, it doesn't mean that I should be left out of everything all the time."

Lips wrinkling into a grimace, Joker shakes his head in disbelief. "What kind of a kid are you? Shouldn't you be, I dunno, jerking off or popping your pimples or something? And stop using the fact that you're adopted to get stuff that you want. If you haven't noticed, everyone that lives in this house is adopted, because Mally has a heart that's the size of the moon." He lays back down on the floor, exhaling loudly. "But, if you're up for a little illegal activity, why don't you kill me? Snake's too chicken to do it, and this would get you in with the big boys."

Dagger tilts his head to the side, staring up at the ceiling. "What are we talking, here? Like, stabbing, shooting, poisoning? I know a guy that used to work at an apothecary, he's really creepy and weird-looking, he could probably give me something that would get the job done really quick-"

"No murdering in the house," a gentle yet somehow stern voice says, and Joker sits back up, a fake smile plastered on his face.

"Mally!" he cries, throwing his arms up into the air, "just the woman I was looking for! Come, sit! I need your womanly, motherly advice. Please. My only other two options are suicide and arson." He rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly as Mally lets out a soft sigh and crosses the room, wedges herself under Dagger's legs, her hands at his knees.

When she's all settled in, she nods her head, dark eyes wide. "All right, sweetheart, I'm all ears. Let me know what's going on and see if I can be of any assistance."

Joker exhales loudly, shutting his eyes for a moment. "So - let's say there's this  _guy._ He's, uh, I think, like, twenty-three? Super cute, really tiny and sweet and has the best smile and these big blue eyes... Anyway, I'm - uh, a friend of mine, I mean, is very interested in him, but the guy already has someone else. A much older, more attractive and wealthy someone else, I might add. What would you do, if you were me-my friend? Would you... give up? Or would you pursue the guy, because he probably doesn't even know how you feel unless you told him?"

Mally smiles softly, still patting her hands along Dagger's legs. "Oh, sweetie... it sounds like you've got it bad, huh? Who is he? Someone in your class?"

"Kind of?" Joker groans, head hitting the floor when he falls backwards again. "Ugh, it's hard to explain. He originally came in to  _model_ for my photography class, but there's deffo something going on between him and my teacher, y'know? And, Ciel is a really sweet guy, like... an angel, probably. Tumbled from a cloud up in Heaven. And, Sebastian Michaelis is the devil. Crawled out from a crack in the earth's crust."

"Sorry, did you say Sebastian Michaelis?" 

Joker's brows draw together and he sits up again, head tilted. "Yee-eah, why? Do you know him or something?"

Mally's cheeks turn rosy and she giggles, hand flitting up to her mouth. "I did, when he was about, oh, couldn't have been any older than twenty-four. He was such a cute, nervous little thing, had terribly shaky hands and couldn't look me in the eyes; he was adorable." She reaches over to ruffle Snake's hair fondly, still smiling. "Oh, he probably doesn't remember me, however. I didn't go by my real name back in those days - I wore a lot of a black, very heavy makeup. I wanted to be edgy."

"Mum, what did you make people call you?" Dagger asks, lifting the cat into the air, its paws dangling near his chest.

She snickers softly, fingertips still pressed against her lips. "I demanded that people call me  _Beast_ back in those days, can you imagine? Oh, if my mother and father had still been alive, they would've been so ashamed of me!" She shakes her head from side to side, looks back at Joker. "Sorry, dear, I got completely off topic. Now, if this young man is dating Sebastian, don't you think you would be better off just leaving them alone? Waiting around for someone that won't come back for you hurts, darling. You're such a sweet, bright young man, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"But that's the thing, Mally!" Joker cries, shoulders drooping, "I don't know if they're like, _together_ , together, you know? I think they might just be having a fling or something, but I can't say for sure. They could just be fucking-"

"Language!" Mally and Dagger shout in unison, making Joker flinch.

He holds up his hands, a sign of apology. "Sorry, sorry," he murmurs, shutting his eyes for a brief moment. "I'm just... at a loss for words, at this point. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, and I have no idea how I'm supposed to go up against Mr. Michaelis, especially as I am now. He's like... a sex god." He leans back down, exhaling loudly. "Maybe I should just go for it. I mean, I'll never know unless I try."

"Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," Mally murmurs, cutting her eyes towards her sons. "Ten pound to whomever can tell me-"

"Tennyson," Snake murmurs before she's even finished, earning a loud groan from Dagger.

"Muuuuum," he whines, sitting up on the couch and knocking the cat off accidentally, "that's not faaaaaair, he didn't wait til you were done asking!"

Mally smiles softly, pretending to ponder the situation. "How's this? Ten pound if you,  _Dagger,_ can tell me Tennyson's first name and the name of one of his poems?" Her lips tilt up into a smile and Joker sits up again because like hell he's gonna miss this. 

Dagger isn't a dumb kid, but compared to Snake, he's the kind of person that can't explain why water is wet, or why the sky is blue. He scrunches up his nose, cheeks turning red with concentration. He hums loudly in his throat, limbs drawing up towards his body until they seem to explode outward, his feet kicking at the coffee table and nudging it forward, his hands nearly smacking both Mally and Snake in the face. "Douglas!" he shouts, beaming with happiness. "His name was Douglas, and one of his poems was, uh, called...  _Wild Nights?"_

Snake's shoulders jump with the smallest of scoffs, and Dagger goes bright red. "Is that not right? Is any of it right?" Eyes like saucers, he looks at Mally, tears of embarrassment brimming on his lower lash line. "Mum?"

"Perfect, my dear," she murmurs, soothing down a cowlick at the back of his head. "Now, run up to my room and get my purse, huh?"

After Dagger disappears up the stairs, Snake shakes his head, eyes on the television. "You really shouldn't lie to him," he murmurs, "and you can keep my ten pound. I don't need it."

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Joker asks, index finger dug into his chest. "Cause, I feel like I'm gonna die - no exaggeration. I feel like my heart is gonna... frickin' pop out of my chest if I even just think about Ciel. Like, what does Sebastian have that I don't?"

Without missing a beat or looking at Joker, Snake answers, "two stable jobs, his own flat, a steady income that is more than you've probably ever seen, and, if I'm not mistaken, he happens to have your current love interest on his arm - and apparently, in his bed." He scoops the cat from where it sits on the floor, bumps his nose against its forehead, "Joker is a sad man, isn't he? Yes, he is, he's sad."

Joker shuts his eyes, takes in a deep breath through his nose, and blinks a few times. "Snake, you're my best friend in the whole world, but don't think that I'm not above killing you. Sorry, Mally, but it just has to be done. He's just gone too far this time. I'm a man, and I can only take so much with my fragile ego. Please, try to understand." He stands up and walks over to the couch, grabs Snake by the neck of his shirt. "Come on," he says, tugging Snake up into a standing position, "I need a drink. Let's go down to Ronald's."

Snake exhales softly and then turns his pale eyes towards Mally, brows slightly lifted. "Do you mind if I go?" he asks, fingers curling into the bottom of his sweater.

"Of course not, love. I'll call you two a taxi."

-

Joker slams back his third shot of Jameson in almost forty minutes - the room had begun to spin halfway into the second shot, and he can't quite feel his tongue anymore, but holy shit, he'd nearly forgotten how good it feels to be drunk. He sets the glass down and combs his fingers through his hair, body unconsciously swaying to the quiet jazz that plays overhead. 

"Perhaps you should slow down, kid," Ronald murmurs, wiping off a glass with a suspiciously stained rag. 

Pointing his index finger firmly in Ronald's direction, Joker leans his elbows against the bar, shoulders slumped forward. "Perhaps you should shhhhhut the fuck up," he slurs, tongue a thick, pink, inconvenient wad in his mouth. He leans back on the stool, circling his finger in the air. "One more. Las' one, promise." 

As Ronald begrudgingly slides the last drink across the bar, Joker catches the sound of a familiar voice, one that nearly has him cumming in his pants like a fourteen year old boy. "Ohhh, shit," he hisses, head swinging around to find Ciel a few tables away, dressed in a soft, baby pink jumper and a pair of tight-fitting black jeans, sitting across from a blonde girl that Joker recognizes as the crybaby from the coffee shop. "Fuck! We - we gotta get outta here," Joker says, trying his best to stand, but instead, he trips over the leg of the stool and brings it crashing down to the floor with him.

"Joker!" Snake leans in, one hand tentatively behind Joker's head, brows drawn. "Are you all right? Can you stand?"

The room spins like a waltz, and it takes everything in Joker's body to keep from throwing up. His stomach muscles clench, and he mouths something incoherently at Snake, hands useless at his sides. There is a small sound off to his left, and his vision stands still long enough for Joker to see Ciel leaning down towards him, the fingers of his left hand holding a few strands of hair behind his ear. He looks like an angel. Hell, he probably is an angel. He is spun from candy-floss and gold, and Joker is sure he loves him.

"Joker?" he says quietly, eyes as clear as the ocean and as wide as ever. His lips are chapped, blood red in certain places - if Joker were in his right mind, and if Mr. Michaelis were suddenly dead or kidnapped or dropped off the face of the earth, he would kiss Ciel til he cried, fuck him til they were both exhausted. "Can you hear me?"

A soft smile touches at Joker's lips when Ciel's hand replaces Snake's, feather-soft at the nape of Joker's neck. "I must've... died, cause... cause you look like Heaven."

Ciel's cheeks go rosy, and he pulls Joker into a sitting position, kneeling beside him. "You're drunk," he says softly, head tilted gently to the side. "Why don't we get you home, huh?" He looks up at Snake, teeth nestled into his bottom lip. "Do you mind? His flat's on the way to mine; I don't mind calling a cab-"

"No, nooooo," Joker says, slumping so that his head rests against Ciel's shoulder, nose pushed into his chest. He smells like honey and sugar. Joker wonders if he tastes the same. "M' dad's... dad visiting. He haaaaates it when I drink." He lifts his head, ignoring the look that Snake gives him, because he knows for a fact that Joker lives with his father and that his father isn't _visiting,_  fingers snagging into the soft pink material of Ciel's sweater. "C'n I come home... with you?"

Ciel blinks a few times, and Joker swears to God - and, with Ciel sitting beside him, hand still at the nape of his neck, Joker has begun to believe in God, believes that they are a beautiful, omnipotent being with the steadiest hands ever, because it had to have taken a miracle to make someone as ethereal as Ciel, someone as light filled and breathtaking as him - that he can  _hear_ the fluttering of Ciel's lashes. "Of course," he says, incredibly softly, nails blunt against Joker's skin. "Of course, you can come home with me."

-

Joker has been in Ciel's flat, but everything feels different now that he's drunk. The world has stopped spinning, and has now become softer around the edges, rose-tinted and rose-scented. There is a gentle mess everywhere: newspapers piled up, a sweater hung over the back of the couch, blankets puddled on the floor, empty mugs on the windowsill. "Looks better than last time," he murmurs as they walk in, Ciel right arm slung around Joker's waist, Joker's left arm loosely draped around Ciel's neck.

"Careful," Ciel says, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Joker's hip, "the floor has a little bit of a dip in it here." They wobble into Ciel's bedroom, where Joker collapses heavily onto the bed. It's narrow, and the springs creak beneath Joker's weight, but he can feel the grove of where Ciel's body has been for years, can practically smell him tangled into the sheets and quilt beneath him. "Take off your clothes; I have some things for you to change in to."

Letting out a low groan, Joker flings his arm up over his eyes. "Too tired," he mutters, attempting - and failing - to roll over onto his side. "You lied." He manages to sit up, hands hanging loosely in between his knees, eyes fixated on Ciel, whose hands have tightened around a set of pajamas, constructed from a pair of sweatpants that might fit Joker and a t-shirt that definitely will not fit him. "You said... you promised you wouldn't tellhim that I knew." Joker suddenly feels much more sober than he had on the taxi ride over. 

Ciel's jaw pulses, and his delicate throat works through a swallow. "I - I didn't mean to. It's just, Sebastian could get in a lot of trouble if people from the school found out. We both could; he was just worried that you would-"

"What?" Joker stands up, backing Ciel against the closet door. "Were you afraid that I'd snitch Mr. Michaelis out to the rest of the faculty? That I'd get him kicked out from another school?" He's being cold, he knows, but _God,_ with Ciel looking like that in front of him, he can't help it. He wants Sebastian dead. His fingers curl around Ciel's bicep, Ciel's hands pressed between them. "If I did any of that, you'd hate me, wouldn't you? And I don't want that. I think I'd die if you hated me." He tilts his head slightly, eyes never leaving Ciel. "You're really daft, aren't you?"

Bottom lip quivering, Ciel shakes his head wordlessly. "I'm, I'm not," he says quietly, voice barely a whisper. If he reached up on his tiptoes, their mouths could brush. But he doesn't want that. Of course Ciel doesn't want that. He likes Sebastian, likes him a lot. "I'm not daft." Joker's eyes are dark, dark in a different way than Sebastian's are, heavily lidded and thickly lashed, but clear and earnest, not sultry and seductive like the latter's. 

He still smells of whiskey, but Joker's fingers are so warm that Ciel could fall asleep, right there, pressed up in between him and the closet.

"You have to be daft if you let me into this apartment while I'm drunk." Joker slides his hand against the side of Ciel's face, thumb brushing over his bottom lip. "You have to be aware of my feelings, Ciel." He lets out a little chuckle, dropping both of his hands when Ciel swallows. "God, you're cute," Joker says, rubbing at the nape of his neck, heat running into the tips of his ears. "And when you bent down beside me in the pub, I'd actually thought that I was dead. That's what you do to me, Ciel."

Joker puffs out his cheeks with a sigh, turning back around to the bed, hands slipping into the pockets of his pants. "I should probably just head home," he mutters, combing his fingers into his hair, attempting to smooth it down some. "Sorry for making things weird. Hope we can still be friends."

"Wait!" Ciel grabs onto the back of Joker's jacket, his touch sending shivers up Joker's spine. "Please... stay here. I don't think that things are weird, and I... I don't  _want_ you to leave." He glances down, licking at his bottom lip. "I'm flattered, actually. Here, please, get changed." His hands are soft and fleeting when he passes off the clothes to Joker, and he slowly backs away. "I'll be in the sitting room when you're done. Don't hesitate to ask for anything."

After Ciel has left the room and his footsteps have faded down the hallway, Joker presses the pajamas into his face to stifle a scream. He pulls the clothes away, glances around the room. Joker wants to memorize every single bit of it, from the way that the pillow lays to the brand of socks that Ciel wears. "Snake'll never believe this," he murmurs softly, trying to get undressed and redressed as quickly as he can.

The sweatpants reach just to his ankles, and he'd managed to get the t-shirt on, but if Ciel asks him to do anything that requires Joker to lift his arms, they'll both be fucked, because the shirt will split down the seams, they will both be down a shirt, and Ciel will not have what he needed done / it will be done by a shirtless Joker. He exhales softly, tongue sliding against his bottom lip.  _Time to nut up, Joker. What would Dad say?_ **Don't forget to put the toilet lid down** _. Not important right now. What would Mum have said?_ **Brush ya hair** _. Also not important. What about Jumbo?_ **Don't fuck someone else's boyfriend** _\- there we go. Good advice, but I don't think I want to follow it._

Joker pads down the hall into the sitting room, where Ciel has curled up in a chair with a cup of tea and a slim novel. When he takes a seat on the couch, Ciel takes in a small breath, hand flying up towards the dip in between his collarbones. 

"You startled me," he murmurs, adjusting a pair of glasses that are perched on his nose. 

Joker has to clench his teeth, fight back all the thoughts of cumming on Ciel's face that flood his mind. "I'm sorry," he replies, tugging at the bottom of the shirt. "I didn't know that you wore glasses."

The light of the lamp beside Ciel's chair glints off of the lenses, and he smiles softly, pushing them up against slightly. "I don't really need them, but... they do help for reading, and in the morning, if I don't have my contacts." He marks the page of his book with a folded page and sets it down in his lap, fingers curling over the cover. "Are you ready to sleep now? My bed is a little bit small, but it should fit both of us easily enough-"

"Wait, what?" Joker sits up straight, eyes wide. "We're... we're going to be sleeping together? Can't I - can't I sleep on the couch or something?" 

Ciel shakes his head slightly, looking at Joker earnestly. "I'm afraid not. Press your hand into the middle cushion, and you'll see that it's broken. The spring would stab you all night. I bought it at a garage sale for only a few pound... it wouldn't be very comfortable."

_Goddamn it. Am I in a fucking romance comedy?_

Joker exhales through his nose, blunt nails dug into his palms. Everything in his body is screaming, alarm sirens going off loudly and bright red inside of his brain. "That's... that's fine, Ciel. I think I can handle it."

-

He can't handle it. 

His head is throbbing, and Joker is painfully aware of Ciel's presence at his side.

The little digital clock on Ciel's bedside table is rude - it's only 02:40. Ciel had fallen asleep just a little after midnight, his mouth slightly open, breath coming out in short, mint-scented puffs. He sleeps like a little kid, knees drawn up to his chest, one hand crushed beneath his face, the other curled into the thick blanket atop his bed. 

Joker lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling, trying his best to will away his boner. He hums _Canon in D_ inside his brain. He tries to think disgusting thoughts: the time he went over to Sullivan's and caught Wolfram getting out of the shower, the first time he'd seen his dad kiss another woman, the time that Dagger vommed all over the back seat of Mally's car when they were on a road trip up North. 

He's nearly soft, until Ciel rolls over onto his side, his forehead resting against Joker's shoulder. His mouth is crimson and shiny with spit - and  _Jesus fucking Christ riding a bike that's on fire,_ there is nothing in the world that Joker wants more than to slide his cock between Ciel's pretty little lips, but he can't! He can't, can't, can't! Because Sebastian Michaelis has at least six inches and probably fifty pounds of pure muscle over him - and Joker has seen what he's done to the girls in his shoots.

_Fuck._

Now he's thinking about Ciel, hands tied behind his back with pretty pink rope, a collar buckled around his neck, tears streaking down his face. He wants to fuck Ciel, wants to fuck him so hard that Ciel cries; hell, maybe so hard that they both cry. Joker just wants to nestle his dick between the soft mounds of Ciel's ass like a man in the desert wants water.

Joker inhales through his nose, exhales quietly through his mouth, and manages to slide down further beneath the blanket, body tilting so that he is face to face with Ciel, his chin tipped against the top of Ciel's head, who lets out a soft little noise and snuggles against Joker, fingers curled into the front of his too-tight shirt.

_I'm dead. I'm dead I'm dead I've died I'm dead. I can see the papers now: local young adult dies in bed from restrained orgasm._

He curls his toes, trying to not notice the way that Ciel's hair smells like roses, or the way that his fingers feel against the material of Joker's shirt. 

Ciel is a cruel temptress, and he doesn't even fucking know it. Joker could do a fuckin' fan dance with a piece of kale he found in the fridge, and Ciel would probably just still think that he was being friendly. He's tired of being friendly, and not to sound like  _that guy,_ but Joker wants to be more than friends with Ciel. He wants to wake up next him in the morning - not in this way, however, if he ever falls asleep. He wants to kiss Ciel square on the mouth over breakfast in a cafe, wants to run his fingers through his hair when they go see a movie together. He wants to learn everything there possibly is to know about the boy snuggled up to his chest.

Joker clenches his teeth together.  **You're a fucking idiot** _,_ a voice in his head sneers, lips curling up at the corners. It sounds like Will, the man who taught Literature at his secondary school.  **As if the kid would ever fall for you, when he's fucking Sebastian. What even are you? You're a nobody - a deadbeat that still lives at home, doesn't have a job, takes a free photography course he's no good at, and follows around the one person he stands absolutely no chance with. Christ, I knew you were stupid, but this is a new level, even for you.**

His stomach turns, and he impulsively cradles Ciel to his chest, sending a collective prayer and thank you to every deity wandering around up above when Ciel doesn't wake up, only stirs quietly, forehead pressed against Joker's chest.  _Fuck you. I'm not a deadbeat. I'm Joker fucking Taylor. I'm good at photography. I may not have a job, but at least I don't feel up six forms during passing periods. And guess who's fucking asleep in my arms right now? You're correct - the one person I stand absolutely no chance with. Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you._

He digs his nose into Ciel's hair, takes a deep breath in. 

He'll never be able to think of roses the same way. He'll never be able to think about anything other than the press of Ciel's body, the warmth that he radiates. 

There is a light inside of Ciel, probably resting in his chest - where Mr. Michaelis has a damp, cold chunk of coal, Ciel has a piece of a star, illuminating him from the inside-out, beaming through the cracks of his teeth and around the swirls of his fingertips.

Where Joker has a murky piece of mirror that tries to keep itself clean, Ciel has the sun, burning so brightly that it fucking hurts to even look at him, even when he's like this, hands curled against Joker's chest, head nestled under his chin, feet twitching to some melody that Joker cannot hear.

He loves him. Jesus Christ, he sounds like a teenage boy that's infatuated with the woman in the flat up above - but it's true. He loves Ciel. Since the moment he timidly walked through the door of the photography class, Joker has been in love with him. He loves Ciel.

And there's one thing he has to do, even if it hurts Ciel in the process. 

Joker has to expose Sebastian Michaelis for what he truly is: a monster with sturdy, salacious hands, masquerading as a wholesome, kind-hearted man that loves books and poetry and definitely hasn't fucked a number of students. He has to pull off Sebastian's cloak and show everyone the Phantom - and only then, can he swoop in and save Ciel, kiss away his tears and lie to him until they both drop dead,  _no, I definitely didn't tell the entire faculty that the man who once slept with a student takes lewd pictures of people. I also definitely didn't say that he's a predator, that he comes on to his students during class - and of course, I would never, ever mention the fact that I did all of this out of a jealous rage because I was in love with you and wanted to have you all to myself. Definitely doesn't sound like something I'd do._

He sighs. Maybe he really is an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooohhhhh boy this chapter was a big ole vent for me. long story short: my ex (whom i am still Very Much in love with) and i started talking again and they told me that theyre still in love w me but. they have a girlfriend currently (-: and i dont want to be a homewrecker yknow but its so fucking hard bc ive been in love w them since i was 16?????? i turn 20 next year. thats a crazy long time for me to be interested in anyone. 
> 
> so - if you didnt like this chap, sorry, but i wrote it for me, yknow. its my story, and its my way of getting stuff of my chest.


	11. kiss each other clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i know its been a while buuuut, ive been really depersonalized lately and i dont have insurance so if i wanted to keep going to therapy itd be like $300 out of my own pocket every visit - so of course, i have to write something hateful and angsty and... smutty.
> 
> hope you all like it, and that you're all doing well! take care of yourselves. go get some water, sit up straight, unclench your teeth.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Ciel's bed is empty when he wakes up the next morning, drool dried onto the corner of his mouth. He stands up, drawing the duvet around his shoulders like a cape, puts his glasses on, and pads down the hallway, scarcely breathing. He listens to soft clinking sounds that come from the kitchen and quietly creeps in to see Joker standing at the counter, mixing something in a bowl. There is flour smeared on his face and just above his left eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Joker slams the bowl down, hands jumping towards his chest as he turns around to face Ciel, cheeks red. "You scared the shit out of me, Ciel. You need a bell." He sighs, turning back towards the bowl. "I'm making us breakfast - I hope you don't mind. You didn't really have anything in the fridge, so I went out and got some stuff. I don't really know what you like, but, my friend's mum taught me how to make these... they're called biscuits in America, but I'm not really sure what we would call them." He flips over the bowl to let dough spill out onto the counter into a puff of flour. "They're kind of like scones, but they aren't sweet, you know?"

Ciel swallows hard, stepping closer. His feet are bare; they're cold against the cool tile of the kitchen floor. "You're making breakfast?" He pads further into the kitchen and perches in the little breakfast nook that he has never uses, duvet tucked around his body, watching Joker. "I thought'd you just left, this morning, without saying anything. How's your head? Do you have a hangover or anything?"

Joker lifts his brows minutely, kneading his palms into the dough. "No, I don't have a hangover. I'm not as little as you are, Ciel. And no, I wouldn't have just, up and left, without saying anything. You were kind enough to bring me into your home, kind enough to offer me your clothes and share your bed. This is the least I can do." He shrugs his shoulders, wrist-deep in a mound of flour and sticky dough. "It really is the least that I can do, after everything you've done for me."  _And everything I'm going to do to you._ His molars come together, vein pulsing at his temple. "You're a good person, Ciel. I wish I could be like you."

"I'm very pleased to hear that you think that about me," Ciel says, hands resting in between his thighs, cheeks flushed, "but... I can't say I agree with you. I don't think anyone is truly a good person, deep down, you know?"

Sprinkling more flour into the dough, Joker does not look up at Ciel. "What do you mean?" he asks, trying his best to not think of how warm Ciel's body felt against his own.

"Well, we're influenced to do things because of others," Ciel begins, glancing at the floor. "If you're in church and someone near you puts their money into the collection plate, you feel compelled to do it as well - perhaps, not to look good in the eyes of God, but to look good in the eyes of everyone else. We all have secret hearts, Joker. We have... secret, impure thoughts that we feel like we should push down, hide away, because we want to protect the image that we've created for ourselves." He pushes up his glasses with his index finger, nibbling at his bottom lip. "It doesn't matter if we have to hide away our real selves, our real personalities, as long as others like what we display."

He lets out a little chuckle, looks at Joker. "I'm not a good person, Joker. I'm... selfish, and I'm possessive, and I care about my own needs and wants more than others. I took you home last night because I  _wanted_ to, not because I thought it was the right thing to do. I like your company, I like your friendship. I value you, Joker. I don't have many friends, but the ones I do have - I want, I crave all of their attention. I casually mention my dead parents, just because I want to see how people react, see the way that their faces change; you can usually see it in their eyes first, or in their mouth."

Joker's hands do not still in their process of kneading, nor does his face change. "Your parents are dead?" When Ciel makes a small noise of confirmation, Joker purses his lips, one brow lifted minutely. "My mum's dead. She died when I was a teenager." 

Ciel's brows draw together as he watches Joker's hands, fingers deft and nimble, tear the dough into palm sized chunks before he begins rolling them into balls. "I had no idea," he murmurs, drawing his knees up toward his chest. "What was she like?"

"She was wonderful," Joker says quietly, a smile on his face as he glances up towards the ceiling. "She's where I got my looks from - we had the same hair, eyes, everything. When she got sick, I just assumed that she'd get better, y'know, because she was my mum, because she could do anything. I thought she was like a superhero, and then - then I had to watch her waste away into nothing, had to constantly clean up the blood that she'd spit up, had to watch her hair fall out..."

He trails off, eyes glued to a spot on the counter, somewhere Ciel has never traveled, gladly beyond any experience. 

"I was so angry with her," he continues after a moment of silence, not once looking at Ciel. "I was  _so_ upset with her, because she didn't tell me. She said it was because she wanted to spare me the pain, but that was bullshit, I know it was. She loved me, and I loved her. She didn't tell me because she didn't want to accept it herself, not because she wanted to keep me out of pain. If she wanted to spare me from anything, she should've told me! She should've given me time to prepare, for everything!" He turns his head towards Ciel, tears welling in his bright eyes. "A fifteen year old shouldn't have to wear one of his father's suits to his mother's funeral."

His fists clench and rub up against his eyes, shoulders trembling. "I could've hated her. I could've hated everything. But, I didn't. I just... I just watched her suffer, and hated myself for not being able to do anything about it."

Ciel's mouth forms a soft little  _o,_ brows dipping to crease his forehead neatly in the middle. He slides from his perch on the nook and pads over to Joker, slipping his arms around his middle, letting the duvet fall to the floor as he presses his head against Joker's chest. "You don't have to beat yourself up over it anymore," Ciel murmurs as Joker cries, "it wasn't your fault. You can't stop an illness like that, and she was just trying to protect you. You were fifteen, Joker. You were her first and only child; your mother had never have to deal with something like that before." He reaches up to wipe a smear of flour off of Joker's cheek, head tilted softly to the side. "You are a good person," he murmurs, voice barely a whisper, a prayer only meant for Joker's ears.

He is still touching Joker's face when Joker closes the gap between them, forcing Ciel up on his tiptoes as Joker grabs his biceps, pulling him closer.

Joker slides his hands beneath Ciel's jaw, thumbs stroking at his cheeks as he kisses Ciel in quick succession, stealing air and words from his lips. His glasses stab into Joker's face, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care that the dough behind them is forgotten, going stale with air. He doesn't care that God is watching, judging him for being a vile person. He doesn't care.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," Joker murmurs in between kisses, one hand at the nape of Ciel's neck. "I've wanted to tell you how I felt for so long." He leans in for one more kiss - just one more, because Jesus Christ, he could die right there, in Ciel's apartment, and still die a happy man - but is cut short by Ciel's hands, so small, so finely boned, pushing against his chest, worming out of his grasp.

Color has gathered high in Ciel's cheeks, his eyes glimmering in the lighting of the kitchen. "What are you doing?!" His delicate throat works through a swallow, and Ciel steps backward, hands clutched against his chest in little fists. "I - you... what are you doing?" He searches for words, continuing to back up until there is about a foot of space between him and Joker. "Why would you do that?"

Joker's stomach drops and his nostrils flare. "I - I just thought... I mean, you had to have known... that I liked you. I - I was practically eye-fucking you last night! Hell, if you would've given me the slightest of hints you were into me, I would've really fucked you! You... you never considered it?" His face is pallid, cheeks white as snow. "I'm an idiot. I should go."

"Don't walk out on me!" Ciel raises his voice half an octave, stepping in front of Joker to block him from leaving the kitchen. "We're friends, Joker, that's all we've ever been. I've... I've liked Sebastian since before I even met you, and I hardly knew him back then. I told you that I admired you, valued our friendship." His tongue darts out, wets his bottom lip. "I just thought you were drunk; people act differently when they're intoxicated."

"You still don't know him!" Joker shouts, pushing Ciel backwards a few steps, teeth bared. "You don't know what kind of a person he is, you don't know what he's done, what he's done to his students, what he's done to you!" His eyes are wide, unblinking, face soft pink, flushed with anger. "I still remember the first time that you came into the classroom; God, you were like an angel. Shy, and quiet, and so soft, demure, and then he stuck his fucking hands inside of you, cracked open your shell, and let all of us see the sticky red syrup ooze out of you, and he didn't care!"

Ciel's brows draw together in confusion, teeth just slivers of moonlight in his blood-red mouth. "What do you know about me? When I first met Sebastian, I was... depressed, introverted, self-conscious. I hated all of my friends, hated myself, hated everyone. I hardly left my apartment, didn't have any money. I could barely talk to the people that lived in my complex, let alone anyone else. But Sebastian - he took a chance on me, some sad kid that he met in a bar one night, took me into his home, into his life, gave me a job, let me sit in on his class, made me rekindle my relationships with my friends, made me want to live again."

He swallows hard, teeth clicking together. "You're the one that doesn't know me, Joker. I don't know anything about you. I know... I know your age, and where you live, and, now I know that your mother is dead, but that's it, that's all I know-"

"How do you know where I live?"

Joker's eyes are luminescent, brows furrowed. He tilts his head slightly to the left, leaning in minutely. "I've never taken you to my flat, and I never told you where I lived. How do you know where I live, Ciel?"

Ciel sucks in a breath, stepping backwards. "The... the time that Sebastian visited you, to discuss his other job, I was waiting in the lobby for him to come back."

"To discuss his other job?" Joker breathes out a scoff, mouth tilted up into a disbelieving smirk. "Is that what he told you he was there to do? That he was there to discuss his fucking erotica with me? He threatened me, Ciel! He threatened to hurt me if I told anyone about his other job, and then he threatened me that he'd kill me if I ever saw you again. I mean, I did sleep in your bed last night, so I guess he's not very true to his word, is he?"

Joker hears the slap before he feels it, pain spreading across his right cheek, stinging warm and freezing cold at the same time.

"He's a good man," Ciel whispers, tears brimming in his eyes. "He's a good man, and I know, Joker, I know what he's done in the past, and I know the things that have happened, but it's not like that anymore. I'm twenty-three, I'm an adult! The women that he photographs are all adults. He isn't harming anyone, and you know that!" He rubs at his eyes, pushing sea-salt tears down his cheeks. "He cares so much about the center, Joker. He cares about all of the students, he cares about you, and he cares about me! And I love him!"

"You what?" Joker's face seems to melt into something mean, something venomous, eyes narrowing. "You  _love_ him? You know what kind of a fucking monster is, and you have the nerve to say that you love him?" He shoves Ciel again, harder than the first time, really angry now. "Has he told you that he loves you, too? Because the last time I checked, he was in love with some fucking dead kid, some kid that he practically killed - some kid that he ruined, just like you!" Another shove. "I bet he thinks you're a real good fuck, Ciel. Maybe I should test you out, see if he's right." 

He clenches his fists, teeth together so tightly that a vein pulses in his jaw. "But I'm not that kind of person, Ciel. I actually care about you, a lot. You wouldn't just be a quick fuck for me. You'd be everything I've ever wanted, Ciel. You'd be my beginning and my end. My happiness. You'd be the finality of my life."

Tears drip off of Ciel's cheeks and down onto his shirt, dampening beneath their touch. "Do you even know what my favorite book is, Joker? Do you know my birthday, or, or how old I was when my parents died? Do you know anything about me, other than the fucking fantasy you've made up in your head?" His throat pulses with a swallow. "Get out of my flat," he murmurs, voice cold and quiet, dead on the inside. "I want you to get out of my flat, and I never want to see you again. If you come near me ever again, Joker, I'll tell Sebastian."

He lifts his eyes to see Joker move towards the door, turn around just before he grabs its handle. 

"At the hotel, we had separate rooms, but in the middle of the night she came sobbing into mine, and we made it up very gently." His eyes search Ciel's face, desperate, flicking back and forth for any glimmer of sorrow or regret. When he does not find one, Joker pulls the door open, steps out into the hallway. "You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go."

-

The light in Johann Agares' office shifts in Sebastian's vision when he learns the reason of why he'd been called in on a Saturday, why he'd been called in during an interview with a potential subject, a sweet-eyed woman named Irene. He shakes his head numbly, as if there is water in his ears, and squints, staring at Johann in confusion. "I'm sorry, sir, could you - could you repeat that?" 

"How else do you want me to say it, Sebastian? You're being sacked, or, you're being let go, or, someone is going to replace you quite soon." He jabs his fingers at the knot of his tie and straightens it as he watches Sebastian through thinly veiled annoyance, brows set. "We may just be a community center, but I've set this building and its occupants to a certain set of standards, and I'm afraid you've broken those standards."

Sebastian lets out a sound that comes from the back of his throat, a noise of desperation. "I - I've been working here for... for over ten years, sir; I have tenure! Doesn't that mean something?"

"Not when it comes to the protection of the students." There is finality in Johann's voice, a sound that breaks Sebastian's heart. He sits on a throne made of fucking gold and casts down judgement - how  _dare_ he. "When you first began working here, I gave you a set of a rules, didn't I? A very specific set of rules, and if this gets out, you'll put everyone in jeopardy. If the rest of the staff finds out-"

"Who cares about the rest of the fucking staff?!" Sebastian pushes out of his chair, sending it toppling over behind him. His body shakes with rage, hands clenched into deadly fists. "I have given my heart and soul to this center, and I've never once done anything untoward to a single one of my students! I love teaching, Johann, you know that." He swallows hard, contemplates getting down on his knees and begging, to Johann, to whatever Gods have claimed heaven for their own, to anyone that may be listening. 

Johann lets out a sigh, eyes silver-bladed in the lighting of his office. "I'm afraid I just can't take the risk, Sebastian. If it's in your past, we all know that history is doomed to repeat itself. Once a sinner, always a sinner."

Sebastian's teeth settle together. He is ready to spit poison, to leap across Johann's desk and choke the life out of him. But he doesn't. Sebastian inhales through his nose. "I've given everything to the center," he says, palms slick against the thighs of his slacks. "I've worked harder than anyone here - don't say anything because you know it's true!" He points an accusing finger at Johann, trembling with nerves and upset. "I love teaching, and I love photography, and I love the students, and Goddamn it, I love Ciel. I love him, and I love my class, and I refuse to give up either one of them, so you'll have to make a decision-"

"Consider it done," Johann says, picking up the office phone with one hand as he straightens his tie with the other. "You've been sacked. You'll never teach in England again. You may go up to your room to collect your things, and I'll have Mey-rin call your students, to let them know that you won't be returning to the center, and that they will have a replacement teacher as quickly as we can find one." He dials a number, presses the phone briefly to his ear before looking back at Sebastian. "Close the door on your way out, won't you?"

Sebastian does not remember leaving the room.

He does not remember climbing the stairs, packing his things into the cardboard box that a custodian had wedged between the door and its jamb. He is made out of dying stars, out of fireworks left to fizzle in the rain. His fingers don't work - they are tree branches in the winter: broken, crushed beneath heavy footfalls. His feet are not his own - they belong to a peddler: black-soled, raw in remains of December snow. 

He does not remember the drive home.

He does not remember calling Ciel, voice soft as a prayer, asking him to come over.

He does not remember buzzing Ciel up, but when he comes through the front door, Sebastian could absolutely melt. He is a cruddy looking snowman, crafted by sticky-handed children, red-tonged and rosy-cheeked, and Ciel is the summer. He is light. He is made out of fragments of stained glass, and his fingers are feather-light when he kneels on the floor at Sebastian's feet, like he is a saint and Ciel is a sinner, touching gently at Sebastian's face.

"What happened to you, Sebastian?" There are already tears on his face, getting caught on his plump bottom lip. "What happened, honey?"

_She had never called me honey before._

Sebastian pulls away from Ciel's face as if burned, heat blooming in his chest. "I've been sacked," he whispers, trying his best to ignore the short gasp of breath that Ciel sucks in through his teeth, sitting back on his heels, hands at his mouth. "The way he looked at me, Ciel - it's like I was a fucking monster." He clenches his teeth, sinuses thickening. "Maybe I am a monster. I ruin everything I touch."

Joker's words ring in his ears, _ruined, ruined, ruined, some kid he ruined, just like you. He's a monster._ Ciel shakes his head, eyes luminescent in the dark of the flat. "No, no you aren't." He slides onto the armrest of Sebastian's chair, cupping Sebastian's face in his tiny, ice cold hands. "You are... the most wonderful man I've ever met in my entire life. I've been alive for twenty-three years, and the past few months that we've been together have been the most fun, most enjoyable." He presses his forehead against Sebastian's cheek. "You haven't ruined anything."

"I've ruined you." Sebastian voice is black treacle, dripping with venom. He turns towards Ciel, hands encircling his biceps. "I've defiled you, dirtied you - how can you sit there and, and say that I'm wonderful? I killed Doll, and I've ruined you." His chin wobbles as his hands move up to Ciel's face, kissing him softly on the mouth, sea-salt mixing with soft spit. "I was a pentapod monster, but I loved you." He kisses Ciel again, voice thick with tears. "I love you, Ciel."

Ciel's lips part with ease, hungry for deeper kisses. He curls his fingers behind Sebastian's ears, combs his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you, too," he whispers against Sebastian's mouth, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'll die if you leave me, Sebastian, I'll die." His voice is like sugar-water, his tears like salt-water taffy. Every kiss is softer and gentler, laced with words of longing, kind and quiet.

Sebastian drops his head against Ciel's chest, body shuddering with sobs. "I don't know what I'll do now," he cries, nails digging into his palms. "I don't know what to do. Photography is my life - I, I don't know what I'm gonna do without it."

"You just need to relax," Ciel murmurs, lips mushed against the corner of Sebastian's mouth. "You still have the other job - everything will be all right." He combs his fingers through Sebastian's hair again, brushes away his tears. "Just let me take care of you, okay, Daddy?" He kisses down Sebastian's neck, earning a soft moan from the older man. "Just wanna make you feel good, wanna take care of you."

Head lolling back, Sebastian bares his Adam's apple to Ciel's teeth, mouth going lax. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you," Sebastian says, voice slurring with arousal as Ciel's fingers unbutton his shirt, undo his belt buckle, coax his cock out. "You - you know my rules." His hands clench at the armrests of the chair when he feels Ciel's mouth, slick and incredibly warm, ever mindful of his teeth. "I'm - Christ, fuck - I'm supposed to be in charge."

His right hand finds the back of Ciel's neck, fingers  combing through the hair that curls upwards at its nape. "God, you're a good boy," Sebastian praises, moans rumbling up from his chest and into his throat. Tears nearly come into his eyes when he hears Ciel gag, because  _sweet weeping Jesus on the cross,_ that's his boy trying his best, doing his best to make Sebastian feel good, to get rid of his pains and problems. He lets his chin drop back down towards his chest to get a glimpse of Ciel, wet-eyed, rosy-cheeked, red-mouthed. 

He loves him.

"I could do nothing," he begins as he lifts Ciel's chin up, spit spilling from the corners of his mouth, "with the anguish of knowing Lolita to be so tantalizingly, so miserably unattainable and beloved on the very even of a new era, when my alembics told me she should stop being a nymphet, stop torturing me." Sebastian's cock is still hard and strains up toward his stomach as he pulls Ciel into his lap, carefully, ever so carefully, wiping tears from Ciel's cheeks. "I am so lucky to have someone like you in my life."

"I know who said something," Ciel whispers, lips pressed against the corner of Sebastian's mouth, hand finding his cock. "I should've known, should've warned you. I shouldn't have taken him home with me." He leans away from Sebastian's chest, eyes glazed over with lust and remnants of tears. "It was Joker. I know it was, Sebastian. I know he said something." 

Heat creeps into Sebastian's throat and he stills Ciel's hand, head tilted softly to the side, inquisitive. "Joker?" he questions, voice velvet soft, low enough to send goosebumps up Ciel's arms. "What do you mean, you shouldn't have taken him home with you? When - when did you take him home?"

Ciel's eyes flash with something in the dim lighting of the room: fear? "The other night, when I was out with Lizzie. He - he was drunk, he needed a place to stay, so I offered to take him with me." His lips are wet with kisses, they shine and God, does Sebastian want to kiss him again, but,  _hold on._

"You mean to tell me," Sebastian murmurs, voice ice cold, fingers tightening around Ciel's left bicep, "that Joker is the one that told Johann about the photography? About the relationship between you and I?" That he's the one that got me fired?" His stomach drops, twists into a knot that feels like its made of fire, teeth setting.

"He kissed me this morning," Ciel says, trying his best to pull out of Sebastian's grip. "I told him that I loved you, that he had to leave, that he didn't know anything about me, or you, for that matter. He kept saying all these crazy things, like that you were going to hurt him if he spoke to me, or if he said anything about the photography." He reaches up to touch Sebastian's face with his free hand, pressing their foreheads together. "Tell me it isn't true, Sebastian. Tell me you didn't say those things to him."

Sebastian's voice cuts through Ciel like a silver knife, red hot and barbed. "He kissed you? What - what do you mean, he  _kissed_ you? Did you kiss him back?"

Shaking his head, Ciel swallows hard. "No, no! I would never. I love you, Sebastian, and that's what I told him. You mean the world to me, and he's just my friend. I didn't know that he felt that way about me. I'm so sorry, Sebastian, please don't be upset with me." Tears stream down his cheeks as he kisses Sebastian, kisses his cheeks and forehead and nose and eyelids, kisses anywhere he can, presses his lips against Sebastian's earlobes and teeth and temples. "Please don't be mad at me."

"You're not the one that I'm upset with," Sebastian says, voice deathly quiet, dark enough to send goosebumps up Ciel's arms. "But I am, indeed, upset."


	12. to see you alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still bad, but getting better. Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when this was just a fic about horny kids taking fetish pics? i hope you all liked the last chap, and i hope you all like this one. also im aware its been a Hot minute. hope youre not too mad at me.
> 
> also also, happy new year.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

The casket shop is darkly lit, illuminated only by the hundred or so candles that are littered everywhere, obviously handmade, of all shapes and sizes, most of them thin and ivory colored, a few fat and dark with charcoal, some soft pinks and yellows. 

Joker has only been here once before - back when he was sixteen, and considered killing himself nearly every day. He strolls around with his hands shoved into his pockets, numb with January cold. "So, how much is it to rent out one of these bad boys?" he asks, turning his head towards the long-haired man that lays in one of the caskets like a corpse, hands folded over his chest.

"Rent? Are we talking zombie, vampire? Some other kind of undead creature?"

Puffing out his cheeks, Joker rolls his eyes. "No. No supernatural monsters involved this time." 

Undertaker sits up, pushing his stringy grey hair out of his eyes, his smile disrupted by the jagged scar that crosses his face. "Are you planning on burying someone alive, and then digging them back up, returning the casket to me? Because, if so, that would knock quite a bit off of the price. Dirt damage and all, you know."

Joker runs his fingertips over the velvet lining of one of the caskets. He wants one that feels like Ciel's skin, baby soft and flower scented. "No, I've been thinking about faking my death as of late. You know, get one of my mates to tell everyone I know and love that I'm dead, have a wake somewhere, say there isn't going to be a funeral, and then, once everyone leaves, I'm dead to the world. Buried in a box, six feet under. Rotting away in something that will one day hold my bones, and millennia after that, dust of my bones." 

"Shame," Undertaker says as he climbs out of the coffin, "to waste a perfectly good casket on a fake death. I could make it a real one, if you'd like. I could make it painless, or if you're a masochist, I can make it hurt as much as you want."

Exhaling through his nose, Joker rolls his eyes, head lolling on his neck. "No. It's going to be a pretend death, a heart attack or a stomach ulcer or something - anyway, it's just an idea I've been fooling around with. I honestly don't think I'll go through with it." He scratches at the back of his head. "Except, the alternative  _is_ actually dying, and it's in a way I wouldn't really prefer. I'd rather kill myself than let  _him_ get his hands on me."

Joker has been avoiding everything for the past few days. Since his visit with Mr. Agares, he's been avoiding the center, the store, restaurants, his father's flat, the train, everywhere he thinks that Ciel (bad) or Sebastian (worst) could possibly show up. He's been crashing with Snake at Mally's house, sleeping in the basement with about ten million blankets and all of his clothes on. He's been jerking off in their downstairs toilet every day since his final confrontation with Ciel, head tilted back, mouth lax as he thinks about fucking Ciel, getting a blowjob, a handy, anything.

If he is a sinner - perverted, fucked in the head, dirty minded - then he would gladly go to hell if it meant spending two seconds buried in Ciel's candy-warm guts.

He doesn't feel sinful, even as he looks at coffins where he will pretend to be dead; God, that has to be some kind of blasphemy, bad luck or something; even as he thinks about Ciel's winter chapped lips wrapped around his cock, fingers knotted in his thick hair. He doesn't feel sinful, even though fucking Ciel would be sacrilege, because he is an angel, white-winged and blue eyed, pure as new fallen snow. 

Joker may be a devil, red haired and handed, but he is not a sinner. 

"What have you done to warrant a fake death?"

Undertaker watches Joker as he leans in, inspecting a plaque on one of the caskets, humming a made-up song in his throat. "Surely you must have done something. No one just decides to suddenly have a pretend death, a pretend funeral, convince everyone you love and care about that you're actually dead," he says when Joker does not speak, instead clasps his hands behind his back and strolls throughout the aisles of boxes like he's out for a nice spring walk in the middle of Paris.

"Let's just say I've done something that is actually going to get me killed, and if I pretend to be dead first, there's absolutely no way that Sebastian can get his fucking hands on me."

Something flashes in Undertaker's lighthouse beacon eyes, and he lets out a quiet chuckle, brows lifted. "Sebastian? Are we talking, Michaelis? The erotic photographer? He's done quite a few shoots specifically for me; he's got a splendid eye for detail."

Joker pauses from he's got one leg swung over the side of a casket, brows drawn. "You know that son of a bitch? How well? D'you think you could talk him into doing another shoot? Say it's for you, but it'll secretly be for me? I'll pay you. Double what you would have to pay Sebastian." He slips fully into the casket, straightening his legs out.

A pause. "Triple."

"Half, and I'll throw in some taxidermy. I know the guy that runs the shop downtown; he owes me a couple favors."

Undertaker rubs at his chin in pretend ponder, and then grins. "Double, and the taxidermy. I'll get you a shoot, and a casket - for free. No returns, though. All sales are final. Use it for decoration, or something."

Joker tilts his head back, eyes up towards the ceiling as he cracks his neck, looks back at Undertaker and leans forward in the casket, holding out a hand. "Deal."

-

"It's freezing, Sebastian. Why do I have to do this?"

They are standing in Sebastian's bathroom, light boxes and cameras set up in front of the porcelain bathtub, which is filled a quarter of the way with ice cold water. It's murky, laden with Epsom salt and various flower petals, making it look nearly pink, ethereal, like some kind of milk that faeries would drink. 

Ciel's arms are crossed over his chest, cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Couldn't you have picked one of the girls to do this? I feel so stupid." He's wearing a pair of black panties, seamless, with thin strips of sheer fabric running over the back of it.

"The man who asked for this session is a client of mine. He pays very well for shoots, and he has very specific requests. He asked specifically for you," Sebastian tells him as he rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, triple-checking the cameras for exposure and focus. "And who am I to turn someone down when I have the opportunity to show off how pretty my baby is?" He peers out from behind the camera, a smile on his face - perhaps the first one Ciel has seen him give in nearly a week. "He's giving us nearly two grand for this shoot."

 _Us._ Something warm licks in Ciel's stomach, and he chews at his bottom lip. "What is the man like, the one who requested this?" He takes a deep breath in as he sinks into the water, teeth clenched, goosebumps rising with the cold. It comes just up to his hips, lapping gently at the points of his elbows.

"He's a mortician," Sebastian murmurs as he rearranges Ciel's limbs, one hand across his chest, the other draped over the side of the tub, head tilted off to the side. "You're lovely," he praises quietly, stepping backwards to the camera, snapping a few pictures. "His shoots always focus more on the aesthetic of the body than what I usually like to do. He doesn't really care for bondage, nor restraints or arousal, but they do come out quite beautifully."

Ciel tries his best to keep his mind off of the cold, thinking warm thoughts, campfires, hot chocolate, sweaters, Sebastian's inner thighs. "Of course they're beautiful," he says, doing everything he can to not move too much, "you're the one that takes them. You have incredible talent, Sebastian." He tilts his head back, exhales. "Fuck, this is cold."

"I know, dove, but just, wait a few more minutes, okay? After we're done, I'll get you warmed up, trust me." There is a smile in his voice that Ciel can't see, but God, he can hear it. He loves Sebastian. He loves how hard he's been working lately, going to expositions and galleries, asking directors about getting his work hung up, getting his own gallery. He loves seeing Sebastian this worked up, even if it originally came from a bad place. "I'm set to interview a new model tonight," Sebastian says, on his knees as he gently touches at Ciel's body, moving his hips further into the water, one leg lifted to the tub's side, hands crushed against his chest.

Ciel fights the urge to look at Sebastian. "Really? Did Grell say anything about her? Is she nice?"

Humming in his throat, Sebastian takes a few more pictures, the lights coating Ciel in an luminous sheen. "It's actually a young man."

"What?" Ciel drops his pose, sitting up, brows drawn. "But, what - you usually only photograph women. I thought... do you know anything about him?" His heart is racing, violent with jealously. He's supposed to be the only male that Sebastian photographs, plucked off of the streets, given a brand new life. He wants to cry, and some small part of him wants to throw a tantrum, get out of the fucking tub and push all of the cameras over, smashing to the ground.

Sebastian pushes Ciel back into the water with a careful hand, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "He's from Germany," he says quietly, kissing Ciel on the nose, "his name is Sascha, and Nina mentioned that he's been featured in quite a few of Esther Teichmann's shoots." He stands back up, wiping his hands off on the thighs of his slacks. "She does such beautiful work, Ciel, it's breathtaking. I'm very lucky to be able to work with someone who has worked with her."

"Why would he leave someone like her to work with someone like you?"

He says it before he even realizes what he's said. It comes from some cold, mean place inside of his chest, sharp-fanged and angry.

Sebastian turns, mouth slightly open. "Excuse me?"

Ciel stands up, tears hot in his eyes. "Forget it," he says, teeth together. "I don't feel very well." He steps out of the tub, snatching a towel off the counter, wrapping it around himself like a shield. Jealousy dries the water that lingers on his naked shoulders, but it does not burn away Sebastian's touch, his hand grabbing onto Ciel's bicep, pulling him back.

"Wait a minute, Ciel." His brows are drawn together in an emotion that Ciel can't place - anger, confusion, frustration? A combination of all three? - and he pushes Ciel back gently to sit on the rim of the tub, his knees knocking together. "Talk to me, baby. Tell me what's wrong." He curls his fingers behind Ciel's ear, eyes glimmering in the light of the soft boxes. "I'm not a mind reader, Ciel. You can't just... up and leave whenever you don't want to talk about something. You can tell me whatever's on your mind."

"I'm jealous," he says, veins hot with anger, self-hatred, and spite. "I want - I want to be the only one you focus one, wanna be the only one you notice." He swallows hard, hating himself, feeling small and mean, and does not expect the tender kiss that Sebastian places atop his head.

He cups Ciel's face in his cheeks, a soft smile on his face. "My angel," he murmurs, leading Ciel over to sit on the tub's edge, their fingers intertwined. "You worry too much, Ciel. I'm not that kind of a man anymore - I've changed, and I've changed for the better because of you. You've turned me into someone that I want to be - someone who does what he wants, someone with integrity, someone with an earnest heart."

Sebastian kisses Ciel, soft and sweet, gentle enough to conjure up tears that roll down Ciel's cheeks, sea-salt warm. "I'm just so worried that one day you'll leave me, without me even realizing it. One day I'll open my eyes, and you'll be gone." He sniffs, wipes at his nose with his wrist. "I just... I've been left so many times in my life: my parents, Lawrence, Lizzie and Alois, and I don't want to be left again, especially not by you, Sebastian."

"I'm not going anywhere, Ciel. I'm a man of my word," he says, their noses nearly touching. "I kept Doll's painting up for so long because I promised him - promised myself, that I wouldn't take it down until I met someone new, until I fell in love again, and when you came into my life, my whole world changed. You keep me on my toes, you make me want to get out of bed in the morning. You're making me work harder than I ever have before for what I want, and what I want is you, Ciel. You're everything to me." 

He kisses Ciel again, softly, no malice, no ill intent. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, kid, and I'd be fucking lost without you." 

Roses bloom in Ciel's cheeks. "I love you," he murmurs, and allows Sebastian to sink him back into the freezing faerie milk, chin deep, their fingers touching over the side of the tub. He is silent for the rest of the shoot, stays, quiet, twists this way and that way, and once it is over - he is all Sebastian's, warmed with touch and tongue and nibbled by teeth, tickled with eyelashes, kissed gently, wrapped in a hug and beneath feather-down blankets, spoken to in whispers.

"My sin, my soul," Sebastian says, head tilted up as Ciel rests his chin on Sebastian's chest, gleaming with a golden, post-orgasmic glow. "How did I get lucky enough to have you in my life? I must've done something incredible in a past life."

Ciel's fingers walk up up the staircase of Sebastian's ribs, pausing briefly by a rosy nipple, dancing up to a sunken clavicle. "You believe in past lives?" he asks, rolling onto his back when Sebastian chuckles, brushes his wandering fingers away. "You don't really seem the type." He watches Sebastian lift a brow, sit up in bed.

"I stopped believing in anything after Doll died," he says, eyes dark, a short glimmer between his lashes, "but there has to be something above to have made someone as ethereal as you." He breathes out a laugh, leans over to kiss Ciel, a smile on his lips. "You've made me believe again, Ciel - in everything, in myself. In love, and in magic, and all that other cheesy shit that teenagers ramble on and on about when they're in their first committed relationship."

Sitting up in bed, Ciel licks at the inner corner of his mouth, chest littered with poppy colored splotches of nervousness. "What did you love about Doll? Do you love the same things about me?"

Sebastian's brows crease, splitting his forehead with a wrinkle. "Uh, what did I love about Doll?" He puffs out his cheeks, sinks back into bed. "Doll was... strong. He was soft, and quiet, and so brilliant, God, he was smart. He was the kind of person that knew what was on your mind, but never let you know what was going on in his. I knew that he was depressed, but I guess I never knew the extent of it, until he died." He smiles softly, eyes staring at the ceiling, past the ceiling, somewhere that Ciel has never been. "We went to the beach one day, in Brighton, for winter holiday. I'll never forget it, for as long as I live, I think it was one of the only times I ever saw him genuinely happy." He glances at Ciel, who has tears in his eyes.

"And that's one of the things that I love about you," he murmurs, nestling a thumb beneath Ciel's left eye to brush away the tears. "You're one of the most sensitive, caring people that I've ever met, Ciel. You have so many feelings, and you're so afraid of them, but you always end up letting me know what's going on with you, even if I have to pry it out of you." He pulls Ciel into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest. "Do you remember the first time that we had sex?"

"Of course I do. I remember the first time you kissed me," Ciel says quietly, "when I came to your apartment. I think that was the moment that I fell in love with you, when you showed me Doll's painting. It was the first time I had ever seen you vulnerable, and then, when you kissed me, it was the first time I had ever seen you... not desperate, but, I don't know how to explain it." He nuzzles against Sebastian's neck. "I think you just needed someone else's attention, and it didn't matter that it came from me."

Combing his fingers through Ciel's hair, Sebastian lets out a little chuckle. "I'll never forget the first night that I saw you. Sitting in the corner of the bar, all red-cheeked, with your little glass of whiskey, God. I never knew that we'd end up like this, but I'm so glad that we did."

Ciel tilts his head up too look at Sebastian, nose nearly grazing the underside of his chin. "You were very rude to me," he says with a small smile, "I thought you were such an asshole, but then, you just... you crawled under my skin, and I wanted you so badly, but  _oh noooo,_ I don't date my models," he does his best to mimic Sebastian, deepening his voice to somewhere in his chest, a baritone that makes his throat hurt.

"I said I didn't fuck my models," Sebastian retorts, smacking Ciel on the ass, hard enough to elicit a yelp but not hard enough to hurt. "But you decided to break that rule, didn't you?" He chuckles, letting his head drop back against the pillow. "A little ghost in natural colors. I think I may have loved you from the start. It felt like, I'm not sure - like you completed me, like you filled the hole in me that Doll left behind, but it wasn't quite a perfect fit. You really had to squeeze yourself in there, despite the mismatched edges and different corners."

Ciel lets out a soft little sound, running his fingers in circles over Sebastian's ribs. "I thought that I loved Lawrence, but... I think I was in love with the idea of being in love with him more. Everyone is always told that they're to search for that other part, the missing half - and when I first met Lawrence, I could've sworn he was it, he was the one. It's like all the wind was knocked out of me, and suddenly I could only breathe if he was near me." He listens to the gentle thudding of Sebastian's heart, a rhythm that he wants to follow with his whole being. "But, when we broke up, I wasn't exactly sad. More like, empty? And time passed, and then I met you, and as soon as I saw you, I knew." 

He lifts his head, rolling over and rests on one elbow to look at Sebastian. "It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight," he says, mind filled with images, flicking by a projector screen, of the night that Sebastian first kissed him, wet-mouthed, needy, fucking Godlike. He leans in, suckles at a soft spot on Sebastian's neck, nestled just above his collarbone, earning a chuckle from the older man.

"You were so needy," Sebastian murmurs, voice rumbling deep in his chest, "you wanted to be loved so badly, and I wanted to love you so badly, but I was just... stuck in the past. I wonder what Doll would say, if he could see me now, with another young man in my arms, in my heart."

Ciel licks at his bottom lip, eyes flicking over Sebastian's face. "I think he would be proud." He thinks about the painting tucked into the front closet, lovingly packed away in sheets of brown paper. "I think he would be proud of all that you've done, all you've accomplished." He thinks about the moment that he began to sleep over regularly at Sebastian's apartment, began to leave his own stuff there as if it were also his home. "He'd have wanted you to be happy." He thinks about the moment that Sebastian asked him to move in with him, sleepily, over coffee one morning. "I want you to be happy."

"I am happy, kitten." Sebastian breathes into a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges - soft, the softest thing that Ciel has ever seen. He loves Sebastian, wholly, unabashedly. "I don't think I've ever been this happy before. Years ago, I would've been terrified to be this happy, because I wouldn't have thought that I deserved it, would've pushed you away." He pulls Ciel against his chest, spreading his legs so that Ciel can rest comfortably between his thighs, their bodies warm and flush.

"I'm blessed to be able to love you," Ciel murmurs against Sebastian's chest, "to be able to be in same life as you."

Sebastian lips curl into a smile, and he is in the middle of kissing Ciel, giggling, when his cell phone rings. "Ignore it," Ciel protests, groaning when Sebastian sits up, snatching the phone off of the nightstand. 

"Hello? Speaking," he answers, in his I-was-probably-a-lawyer-in-a-past-life voice. "I'm sorry, who?" He glances briefly at Ciel, and then shakes his head in response to whoever is on the other end. "I see. No, he's not here right now. I can pass him along a message, however."

Ciel sits up, leans forward, trying to hear the conversation, but Sebastian presses a firm hand against his chest, face suddenly going serious. "I understand, I'll let him know. I'm very sorry for the loss. Of course. Thank you."

"Who was that?" Ciel asks with a small laugh, eyes flicking over Sebastian's face. There is no joy in his eyes, only emptiness, an emotion that Ciel can't really place. "Sebastian, what is it? Who was on the phone? What's wrong?" His blood runs cold when Sebastian lets out a sigh, bringing Ciel back to his chest.

"It was a young man named Snake, a friend of Joker's. Apparently, Joker passed away sometime last night."

-

The shock doesn't hit Ciel all at once. At first, he is angry - screaming, tears of rage running down his cheeks, teeth clenched so hard that he can taste blood. He wants to throw things, (he doesn't. He doesn't want to damage any of Sebastian's stuff.) he wants to run out into oncoming traffic. He is inconsolable at this point, hands clamped over his ears so that he cannot hear any of Sebastian's soft, soothing words. 

"I just saw him a few fucking weeks ago!" he shouts, fists clenched so tightly that he might be bleeding - he really can't tell, everything in his body is liquid hot right now, burning with misplaced anger. "He was fine, Sebastian - people don't just up and die!" His throat is going sore from yelling and his feet are numb from pacing around on the floor in their hallway, but he is on autopilot right now, struggling to stay alive, constantly moving like a shark.

Sebastian is perched at the bar, studying Ciel with dark eyes. "Sometimes, they do," he says softly, and if Ciel were in his right mind, he would rush over to Sebastian, kiss him gently - but he isn't, and he doesn't do that. "Look, Snake said that they're planning a funeral in a few days, and, if you'd like to go, we can go. For closure. If you don't want to go, we won't. It's completely up to you."

Next, Ciel is wracked with guilt.

"We were friends," he says softly, collapsing onto the couch, "and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't go to his funeral? I mean, sure, we had a fucked up relationship, but we were friends, first and foremost. I owe it to him, to his mother." Ciel sighs, hand at his forehead. "I can't believe this. More so, I don't believe it. This has to be some kind of joke, or a prank, or something." He licks at his bottom lip, looks at Sebastian. "It can't be true."

"Sweetheart," Sebastian says, stepping across the room to sink into place beside Ciel, "I'm afraid it's true. No one calls someone else to joke about their friend being dead. That's a hard thing to hear, and I know that you know that." He strokes the back of Ciel's head, softly, sweetly. "If you want to go to his funeral, we'll go, and if you don't want to go, then we won't. It's completely up to you." There is something soft, something wistful in his eyes that Ciel wants to bottle up and drink on a rainy day.

Ciel swallows. "Did you go to Doll's funeral?"

 _Ah. There it is._ Something in Sebastian's face falls, softening his entire demeanor. "No. His family thought it... inappropriate that I go. They sent me a memorial pamphlet, but I wasn't allowed to attend the funeral, and he was cremated, so there's not even a grave that I can visit." He lets out a small laugh, glances away. "It's funny, even after all these years, I can still see him when I close my eyes, but it's the idealized version I had of him in my head - one where he's smiling and happy and laughing, which just wasn't him, really." He sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch. "I'll get over it, eventually."

"Don't say something like that!" Ciel's cheeks have gone red, and there are tears in his eyes again. "Why would you want to get over the death of someone that you loved? If I died, would you just  _get over it?_ I haven't gotten over my parents death, and I loved them in a completely different way than you loved Doll! Do you want me to just  _get over_ Joker's death?"

Sebastian shakes his head, brows drawn. "That's not what I meant, sweetheart." He smooths down Ciel's mess of hair, eyes earnest. "I meant that I shouldn't still be focusing on Doll when I have you, right in front of me, warm, black-haired, and mine, mine, mine." 

"If you're Humbert, in a strictly non-pedophilic kind of way, I think that Doll would be much more like Lolita than I would. I mean, he would be your American sweet immortal dead love; for he is dead and immortal if you are reading this." He glances down, licks his bottom lip. "I want to go to Joker's funeral."

"All right," Sebastian says, taking Ciel's hand in his own. "Then that's what we'll do. And, for the record, Doll is dead, yes, but not immortal, because I'm learning how to let him go, because of you."

-

The casket is fucking hot. Despite it being nearly March and still freezing outside, Joker is beginning to perspire beneath his suit, face and body frozen with a small amount of Botox paired with a mild tranquilizer, just enough to still his muscles and slow his heart rate.

He'd had Undertaker do his makeup - making him look like an actual dead person, pallid and grey, with fake rosy cheeks and too-neat hair. 

Snake had helped Joker's father make the arrangements, kept Joker stowed away in the basement of Undertaker's shop, made sure that no one found out about their plan. He'd ordered flowers, called Joker's friends and family, let no one in on their secret. 

Joker's father is the first to speak, voice thick with tears and snot. "My son was a good boy," he says, chin wobbling, eyes ever owlish behind his glasses, glassy and wet. "He had his fair share of troubles, especially growing up, but he was kind, and always did his best to help others out. He wasn't a selfish person, or rude. He was a sweet boy." He chokes up, warbling loudly, and Joker can hear Mally coo and comfort him, patting his father on the back.

If his face wasn't tight, and if he weren't pretending to be dead, Joker would laugh, uproariously, because he, his father, and everyone else in the goddamn church knows that the speech his father just gave was an absolute crock. Even now, in mock-death, Joker is a self-serving, inconsiderate asshole. He lays in his suit, nicked from some high end tailor, paralytic and very much alive, and listens to people give sob stories, varying from friends - Snake's speech had been so good, it nearly moved Joker himself to tears - to family, to someone Joker had never expected to hear from, ever again, in life or death.

"Joker was my friend," the soft voice says, whispers, singing in its honeyed tone, close enough to the casket for Joker to stiffen his abdomen. He can hear the wooden floor shift gently beneath Ciel's weight, can hear the quiet sobbing of someone in the back pew, and can hear his ears ringing a melody he has never heard before. "He was a funny kind of person, always smiling, and telling jokes - except for when he was being serious, which he wasn't often." 

 _God,_ would Joker give anything in the world to sit up and take a look at Ciel, see him and those big blue eyes one last time before he was supposed to be plunged into the dark depths of six feet under. But, he can't. He has done this to himself, has to stay stone still in a casket that cannot be returned, mustn't look at Ciel even though everything in his body is screaming at him to do so, invisible hands yanking on the roots of his hair, jabbing fingers into his ribs, poking at his eyeballs.

"We left each other on a bad foot, and I would do anything to take it back, but since I can't, I'm going to leave him this time on good terms, and pray that he can forgive me, for being so cold to him." 

Once again, the wood creaks, and Joker's heart rate speeds up as much as it can, thumping painfully in his chest. He can hear Ciel get closer, can hear his fingers curl over the lip of the casket. He can  _smell_ Ciel, sweet and floral scented, and _dear God in Heaven above, if you are listening, if you haven't  forsaken me for doing something so blasphemous and  cruel, please let this moment last forever, and please, PLEASE, don't let me fuck it all up._

"I dream of better times ahead," Ciel whispers, lips pressed against Joker's forehead, "when you'll forgive me, and join me here, one orange-colored day." His lips are hot, hotter than the casket, hotter than the suit, probably hotter than the fucking sun, and Joker is suppressing everything in his body that is telling him to jump out of the stupid casket, strip naked, and fuck Ciel right there, in front of God, and his father, and everyone. He can't, he can't, he can't!

He has to die in front of Ciel, must be dead to both him and Sebastian and everyone he has ever known and loved. It's the only option. There is no kill or be killed in this situation. Only die or be killed. And he really,  _really,_ would rather die than be killed by Sebastian fucking Michaelis.

"Your hair is wrong," Ciel murmurs with the softest chuckle Joker has ever heard, and softly combs his fingers through Joker's hair, displacing it back to its original state of wildness, a messy mane that sticks up in all directions. He shifts away from the casket, pauses briefly. "Perhaps I'll see you again someday," Ciel whispers, and Joker has never loved anyone more in his life than he loves Ciel in this moment, wholly, warmly, enough to pretend to die.

Like everyone else in the room, Joker will remember this day forever, except for completely different reasons.


	13. bigfoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quiet moments suddenly get louder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe it took me like 3 months to write that last chapter. writers block is real folks and we are all suffering because of it.
> 
> hope youre all well. drink some water. tell a loved one that i said hello.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Ciel isn't jealous, thank you very much. He's sitting on the couch in Sebastian's studio, arms crossed over his chest. He's not jealous, and if anyone asked - which, if they were in their right mind, they wouldn't - he would tell them  _no, I'm just here to support Sebastian,_ even though he's never, ever intruded on someone else's shoot.

Sascha is very pretty. He's a little slip of a thing, with short, dark hair and the most luminous green eyes Ciel has ever seen. His mouth is bowed, bright and nervously bitten, and the glasses he had been wearing are currently sitting on the desk, neatly folded and not all bent out of shape like Ciel's.

"Beautiful," Sebastian murmurs from where he's squatting on the floor, camera tilted upward. "Bring your left foot a bit closer in, please."

The tie that binds Sascha had  _nearly_ made Ciel upset, but because he's not fucking jealous, because he's an adult, and in an adult relationship with the even adult-ier Sebastian, he had bitten his tongue and had said absolutely nothing about the rope knotted around Sascha's wrists, keeping them behind his back, or the thin, silver bar that keep his ankles shoulder-width apart. He is calm, a good boyfriend, a supportive boyfriend, a boyfriend that knows his significant other has no ulterior motives in mind, but,  _fuck,_ he can't help it.

Ciel has always been a back-burner kind of person. Sometimes shoved aside, set on a simmer, ignored for a main course, or dumped out, never to be tasted. He knows that Sebastian is not ignoring him, that he's doing his job, which people pay him to do, but the mean, ugly little goblin that lives in Ciel's stomach is shouting angry things, stomping its pointy little feet. He could jump around, scream, and he is about to, until Sascha speaks for the first time since they began the shoot.

"Can't feel my right hand," he murmurs, not breaking from his position, eyes still locked on a spot near the back wall. His voice is soft, accented, warm.

Sebastian stands up and immediately unlocks the ankle bar, helping Sascha off of the table with strong, steady hands that Ciel knows as if they were his own, sewn on to the ends of his wrists. He watches as Sebastian carefully undoes the knots of Sascha's tie and begins to massage little circles into his right palm, brows drawn. "How's that?" he asks, after a few moments of silence, and Sascha nods, rolling his wrist around a few times once he is out of Sebastian's grasp.

"Better," he says, turning his back towards Sebastian. "We can continue the shoot now."

Ciel lets out the smallest of scoffs. Sebastian had ended Ciel's shoot, his first official shoot, when his fucking pinky went numb - and this kid wants to keep shooting after losing all feeling in his hand? He's crazy, he's got to be crazy. Sebastian will never agree to something like that.

"All right."

_What?_

He shakes his head loosely, watching as Sebastian firmly reties the ropes around Sascha's chest and arms, biceps ripe beneath his shirt sleeves. "Sebastian!" he calls without meaning to, brows furrowed so hard that he can feel the beginnings of a headache, pressing at the backs of his eyeballs. He's trying not to be jealous, really, he is, but this is fucking unbelievable. "Why are you going to let him keep going after something like that just happened?"

"He's a professional, kitten; he knows his limits." Sebastian brushes a stray hair away from Ciel's forehead, smiling softly. "If he says he's all right, then I'm going to trust him. We should be done here in a few hours. Why don't you head on home and wait for me, okay?"

Ciel's throat burns, like he's just swallowed a mouthful of gasoline. Is he being pushed away? No, that's certainly not the case. It's impossible. Sebastian loves him and he loves Sebastian. "All right," he murmurs, trying his best to keep the defeat out of his voice, chewing on his bottom lip. "Call me before you leave, okay?" He kisses Sebastian chastely, touching briefly at his cheek with one hand before he jogs outside, jacket gripped closed, flagging down a cab.

-

The flat is quiet without Sebastian. It feels too big, too cold. He is not used to being alone anymore, is always in the company of someone, be it Sebastian, or Alois and Lizzie, or Nina and Grell, or anyone else. He is so used to being skin to skin with Sebastian, that being in bed by himself is so incredibly lonely he could cry.

But he doesn't. 

Instead, he does something vile: snoops. This is his home as well, but there is so much of Sebastian in it, so much Ciel still doesn't know - and sure, Sebastian would probably share with him if he just asked, but where is the fun in that?

Ciel begins with the box that is tucked beneath the bed. It is old, heavy, tearing softly at the sides and on its lid is written  _university._ He sits on the floor, duvet wrapped around his shoulders with only the bedside lamp on, drenching everything in a soft, honey-colored glow, and pries the lid off, teeth sinking softly into his bottom lip. He picks up the first thick volume in the box, lets it rest against his inner thighs, and flips it open to the first page.

It's a scrapbook of sorts, stuffed with newspaper clippings, pictures of people that Ciel doesn't know, poems scribbled on napkins in Sebastian's scrawl. He smiles softly, thinking of Sebastian in his twenties, dark-eyed and long-legged, scowling, pretentious, hair just a little bit too long, nails bitten down to the quick. 

Ciel skims through the rest of the scrapbook, chewing absently on his bottom lip as the pages become less filled, more frequent with jagged pieces of paper, written on in a handwriting that Ciel recognizes as different from Sebastian's, most of the pencil rubbed away with age.

 _Will you miss me then,_ one of them reads,  _your lover more than other men?_ A knife twists in his stomach, fire-hot, painful. 

 _For I am still your lover,_ another says.

The world swirls in Ciel's vision, going foggy around the edges, star-speckled. He does not need to guess who these notes belong to - Ciel knows. The lid is a lie, or the book had been stretched over many years. He knows, without really knowing, that this is Doll's handwriting, soft, lilting, curling out the words of Robert William Service, mocking Ciel, even almost sixteen years after his death - he is holding on to Sebastian, a skeletal hand cupped over his heart.

Ciel's hands curl unconsciously into fists, and he stands, dropping the book to the floor, where it slides beneath the bed with the momentum of Ciel's movements. His bottom lip trembles, chin quivering - Christ, he hates being like this, doesn't want to be like this. He cannot compete with Doll. Doll has him beat in every aspect: Sebastian's first true love, Sebastian's muse, his reason of being, his moon, his everything. Doll is dead and has everything; Ciel is alive and has nothing.

His chest is on fire, he can't breathe, struggling to bring in little gasps as he paces around the apartment, fists clenched so tight he might be bleeding, jaw so tense he can definitely taste blood, feet numb. Who is he? What is he doing here? He is floating out of his body, high above the city, curling around the skyscrapers like smoke, spying on Sebastian like the omnipotent force he is, slipping through the clouds to meet Doll, fighting him, clawing his dreamy eyes straight out of his fucking head.

Ciel does not know what Doll's voice sounds like, but he can hear it - even though he doesn't hear the flat's telephone ring six consecutive times (all of them Sebastian), he can hear Doll in the back of his head as he continues to rummage through Sebastian's belongings, tears streaming down his face as he reads letters sent from Doll, sent to Doll and returned to sender, voice soft, mocking,  _I am still your lover, still your lover, still his fucking lover._

He does not hear the door buzz, nor does he hear it unlock, but Ciel can hear Sebastian swear loudly, bag hitting the floor with a loud thud. "What the fuck are you doing?" Ciel lifts his head from the letter he's currently holding, so tight that it has begun to crumple in his fingers, eyes wide, unseeing. "What have you done, Ciel?" He blinks a few times, watching as Sebastian squats before him, brows drawn, all anger suddenly replaced with worry.

"Baby?" he asks, softly, pulling the letter from Ciel's icy fingertips, leaning so close that Ciel goes cross-eyed, focusing on the tip of Sebastian's nose. "Can you hear me, Ciel? Sweetheart? What did you do? What happened?"

Tears build in Ciel's eyes again as he shoots forward into Sebastian's arms, knocking them both over onto the floor, Sebastian on his back, Ciel flush against his chest. "I can hear him," Ciel murmurs, voice muffled against Sebastian's shirt, "he's in my fucking head." His little body shudders with a sob, shoulders pitching forward into Sebastian, who shushes Ciel, warm hands - molten glass warm, so warm, warmer than anything in the world - slipping over his ears.

"It's okay, Ciel, it's okay," he croons, letting his head drop back against the floor, holding his boy still. "I'm right here, okay? It's just you and me, we're the only ones here." His hands are trembling, and there is a maelstrom of emotions swirling around in his body right now, but Sebastian will not allow them to overtake him. Instead of screaming at Ciel for ruining his precious possessions - old, tear-stained, cum-stained poems written by Doll that he should've gotten rid of forever ago - he scoops Ciel up in his arms and tucks him into bed, pressing his lips against his forehead.

"I love you," Ciel says, eyes going out, head lolling,  _sleepy, so sleepy._ "I'm sorry about your stuff. I'm sorry." Tears drip down the sides of his face and collect in his ears, glinting in the pale lighting that creeps in from outside. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry."

Sebastian sighs softly, smoothing Ciel's hair down. "It's all right, sweetheart. They're just things - things I should've thrown away a long time ago." He licks at his bottom lip, eyes flicking over Ciel's face: his cheeks are flushed, mouth bitten and bloody, eyes closed, black lashes still wet, matted,  _like yours, Lolita._ "You surprise me, every day." Once more, Sebastian kisses Ciel, softly, gently, no malice, all clenched-teeth tenderness. "Get some rest, sweetheart. I love you."

He waits until Ciel's breathing evens out to clean up the mess, carefully folding, refolding Doll's letters and scraps of notes, transported from the present to years past, sitting on the floor beside Doll, their thighs nearly touching in this weird ghost space, separate but somehow together, forced into one another with superglue and deft fingers.

 _You can just let go,_ Doll breathes, and Sebastian can feel his knees go weak, threatening to give out, even in this astral plane that they have found themselves in.  _I'll be all right without you. He needs you much more than I do, I can assure you of that._

Sebastian swallows. If he touches Doll, this mirage will disappear, melt back into the floor, and he can't tell if he wants it to or not. "I know he does," Sebastian answers, fist tight around one of Doll's shreds of paper:  _i carry your heart with me(i carry it in_ _my heart)._ "But what if he stops needing me one day?"

Doll smiles, cheeks flushing with bright pink summer roses.  _He may not always need you, but he will always want you. I only needed you, never wanted. I loved you, but it was out of necessity. My lover, look how old you are - stop dwelling on the past, on me._ He lifts his head, eyes ever celestial, and Sebastian can almost feel him, can smell him, can hear his voice.  _You have someone with you that loves you more than I could ever have thought of loving you. I've seen his heart. He is a good boy._

"I know he is," Sebastian whispers, looking at Ciel, curled up in bed like he belongs there, because he does, he is an integral part of Sebastian's life now. Maybe he always has been. Maybe they were destined to meet, born from the same star, celestial particles meant to find one another. "I do love nothing in the world so well as him."

 _Is that not strange?_ Doll finishes, a soft, sad smile on his face, fingers ghosting over Sebastian's cheek, ice cold, holy. Even in death, he is an angel, crafted by the heavens, imbued with the stuff that has existed for millennia, stuff that will never cease to exist, long after everyone, and everything, else does.  _Just let go. I'll be all right without you. You've come so far without me. Look at you, Sebastian. Look at your life. You've done so many wonderful, beautiful things, and you will continue to do them, with Ciel at your side._

Sebastian must clench his teeth against the tears that threaten at the back of his eyes, making his nose burn. "Where will you go?" he asks, voice soft, a prayer. Behind him, behind them, Ciel stirs, body shifting against the sheets. It's a beautiful sound - Sebastian has never heard anything like it. 

Doll smiles, teeth glinting in the starlight that surrounds them, beautiful, ethereal.  _I'll be where I've always been, buried beneath your skin, in a box on the shelf in my childhood home._ He touches, again, at Sebastian face, skin frost-bitten and blue, threatening to fall off of his bones, rotting.  _My noon, my midnight,_ he says, and now Sebastian is really crying, something he does not do often, something he had done for weeks after Doll's first death.  _The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; pack up the moon and dismantle the sun. It'll be okay, Sebastian. You'll be okay. Do you trust me?_

"I do," Sebastian whispers, breath hitching when Doll leans forward, kisses him gently, the wafer of his tongue melting into Sebastian's mouth. He is there - really - and then he is - really - gone. Sebastian is left alone, sitting the midst of his mess, but the soft rattle of Ciel's breathing reminds him that he's not alone, that he may never be alone again. He has Ciel to love, to live for, and God Almighty, he's going to do both of those things to the best of his ability, until their time comes to end.

-

The sunlight is what awakes Ciel, golden magma salaciously creeping through the curtains, brushing its lips against Ciel's temple. He sits up in bed and stretches, elbows popping noisily as he lifts them over his head. The room is clean, and Sebastian sleeps peacefully beside Ciel, laying on his stomach, one hand hidden beneath the duvet, the other a hair's breadth away from Ciel's thigh. He combs his fingers gently through Sebastian's black locks, smiling softly.

He is lucky, lucky to be alive in this moment, in this place, in this universe. He is lucky to be with Sebastian, to be able to wake up beside him, to share love and kisses and fears and haunting dreams with him. Ciel is so fucking lucky to love someone and be loved in return. He has never felt this lucky before.

With the sun bright outside, and his man, sleeping so closely, Ciel, for the first time in what seems like years, feels truly alive.

He slips silently out of bed and pads into the kitchen, chewing on his bottom lip. Cooking has never been his strong suit, but he wants to make Sebastian something, something to prove truly how thankful he is. After moments of trying to decide, Ciel ultimately settles on something easy: eggs and a few muffins from Sebastian's pantry. He does his best to make everything look presentable: sprinkles basil and thyme over the eggs, paints tiny hearts onto the muffins with Marmite (which Ciel detests, but Sebastian likes well enough) and brews a strong pot of Sebastian's favorite coffee, pouring it into his favorite mug.

Balancing the tray carefully, Ciel makes his way into their bedroom and sets it on the bedside table before crawling in beside Sebastian, kissing up his exposed neck, into the hollow behind his ear. "Good morning, my love," he purrs, nuzzling against Sebastian's temple, drawing his knees together as he sits beside him.

Sebastian murmurs something that Ciel doesn't catch and stirs, cracking one eye open. "How do you feel?" he inquires, voice thick with sleep. Ciel loves him. He loves, loves, loves Sebastian. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," Ciel responds, still whispering, soaking in Sleepy-Sebastian, with heavy lids and rosy lips and sheet marks imprinted across one cheek and down an arm. "I'm sorry about last night. I made you breakfast. As a thank you, for taking care of me." He retrieves the tray as Sebastian sits up, allowing Ciel to lay it in his lap. "I'm not very good at cooking, but I did try my best. And I'll try my best to better. To be... a better person, a better boyfriend, a better lover. I want you to be able to rely on me, not just the other way around."

He lets out a soft little gasp when Sebastian leans over, kisses him hard on the mouth, one hand holding onto the tray as the other one slips beneath Ciel's jaw. "I love you," Sebastian breathes, voice rumbling against Ciel's lips, "I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world." He noses against Ciel's cheek, smiling. "Thank you for the breakfast. I'm so grateful to be able to wake up beside you, to fall asleep beside you, to eat these fucking muffins."

Ciel can't help but smile, cheeks warming. He feels like a preteen, just discovering lust for the first time - but he knows better, knows that this is not lust, or a chemical imbalance, or an upset stomach. He loves Sebastian. Truly, deeply. He watches with pride as Sebastian begins to eat, leaning over for a bite of the muffin, nose wrinkling against the unique (disgusting) taste of Marmite. He loves Sebastian. 

"I love you," he murmurs, absently, as Sebastian finishes the last of his coffee and returns the tray to the bedside table, pressing his chest against Ciel's in a way that makes him tingle from the inside out. "I feel like... maybe we were meant to be together. And, God, I know that sounds cheesy, but, maybe it's true. Maybe, once upon a time, we were star-crossed lovers, and this is the universe where we get it right, where nothing goes wrong."

Sebastian hums in his throat, head nestled beneath Ciel's chin. It's usually the other way around, but Ciel likes this, likes the warmth that radiates off of Sebastian's body, likes the way their legs fit together. "Maybe we were just stars, centuries ago. Maybe we were made when the Big Bang happened, and we just floated around one another until we were ready, grew up in different times, different places, but eventually, our paths crossed again, and we found each other. We were meant to find each other." His fingers slip beneath the hem of Ciel's t-shirt, something too big, stolen from his closet, and smiles, their skin warm, flush. "I love you, too,  _mon coeur._ It may not be forever or always, but in this moment, I love you. That's something you can take to the bank."

Ciel does not like to think about the future, their future. He does not like to think about them breaking up, be it mutually, quietly, or angrily, fists clenched in rage. He does not like to think of them getting married, their house together, little dark-eyed, ruby-mouthed children running around on hardwood floors. It hurts, because there are so many paths for the future, none of them certain, none of them set in stone.

He strokes the back of Sebastian's head, fingers lingering at the nape of his neck. "Would you paint me, one day?" he asks, body stilling, transported to Ganymede, trapped in glue.

There is no hesitation, no beat of silence.

"I would love to," Sebastian responds, lifting his head up to look at Ciel, resting with his elbows on either side of Ciel's hips. "I would absolutely fucking love to paint you, Ciel. Do you know how much of an honor that would be for me?" He slides forward, kisses Ciel on the forehead, on his eyelids, all over his face until Ciel is shrieking with laughter, his sides sore and his mouth flushed. "I would love that, Ciel. You have no idea how much I would love to."

The edges of Ciel's eyes wrinkle as he smile, teeth glinting in the sunlight that floods the room.

He feels like he has just been born, just opened his eyes for the first time. Specks of dust twirl around them, worked up by their movements, and Ciel could cry. He has never seen anything more beautiful than Sebastian in this moment, grinning, bathed in amber, soft, and his. He takes a mental picture, locks it away in the back of his mind for a rainy day. 

He feels like he's finally seeing, really seeing.

He feels like the world is endless.  _In this moment,_ he repeats in his head, and leans back over to kiss Sebastian again, smiling against his mouth. Ciel thinks that he has finally learned to live in the moment, no longer stuck in the past, hiding behind the shadow of university, of a dead boy, of all his failures. He is the sun, he is golden, and even if - God forbid - Sebastian were to leave him, Ciel thinks that he is finally strong enough to be able to make it through anything.

Anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooookay this chapter got super weird super fast. i kind of feel like it was a vent? i had like. a mild manic episode the other day and i think this might just be my way of working thru everything that caused it???????? idk. if you didnt like it, sorry.
> 
> also im aware its a little bit shorter than my usual updates but. im proud of it. i feel really good about this chapter.


	14. thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cats outta the bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woowee there was a bad case of purple prose in that last chapter huh? idk i liked it. a lot.
> 
> hope youre all well.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

The haircut will definitely take some getting used to. Joker stands in front of the mirror in Mally's downstairs bathroom, smoothing his hands over his sheared head, almost frantic, almost flat-lined. "It looks weird, doesn't it?" he asks, turning around to look at Snake, who is sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. "I feel like it makes my ears look big. I mean - my hair was a dead giveaway, and I really miss going into town, so maybe no one will recognize me now - but seriously, how big do my ears look?"

"As big as Pluto," Snake murmurs, eyes flicking over the words of whatever book he's reading. 

It's been almost a month since the fake funeral. Mally had been livid at first; she'd hit Joker so hard that the world had spun for nearly three days.

Joker scowls, lifts a brow. "So, not big enough to be considered a planet, but big enough to be considered ears?" He doesn't wait for a response, instead groans loudly, and walks out of the bathroom, into the sitting room where Mally, Dagger, and Wendy are watching television. "Mally, what do you think of my haircut? How do my ears look?"

"Like ears," Mally responds without looking, one arm curling protectively around Dagger's shoulders. Joker flinches, teeth together in a grimace.  _Shit._ The only person that had been more upset than Mally about Joker's faux-death was Dagger. He'd cried for a day and a half after the funeral, and then went into an explosive episode of upset after the truth had come out, screaming and crying. They are still upset, and fuck, Joker doesn't blame them - it was beyond messed up, beyond the valley of Sad City, but he's visited there and it was a long time to get home but, he's back, and he's not going anywhere.

He clenches his teeth, exhales quietly through his nose. "Look, guys, I get what I did was wrong, but it was necessary! Sometimes, people do things and they don't have to offer anyone an explanation."

"Your father thinks that you're dead," Mally says, finally turning to look at Joker. Her brows are drawn, mouth mean. "He doesn't even know that you're still alive - let alone living in my house! I should tell him, Joker. Your father is a good man; he loves you, he loves you enough for both himself and your mother. Do you know what she would say if she could see you now?"

That hits Joker like a fucking truck. He inhales loudly, so fast and so hard that it burns. It catches in his throat and he wills himself not to choke on it. "I... She'd be disappointed in me, I know. But, you have to believe me, I really did have a reason. It was for my own safety, Mally, you have to believe me!" He clenches his fist as she stands up from the couch, clapping her hands over Wendy's ears.

"If you knew, why would you do something so incredibly selfish?!" Tears gather in her eyes, roll down her cheeks. "Your father has called me before, multiple times in the middle of the night, because he had no fucking clue where you were!" Beside her, Dagger's shoulders flinch, and Joker can see his lips move silently:  _language._ "He was so worried for you, Joker, and he was so proud when you started getting serious about photography, and you started taking courses at the community centre, and he's still so upset, because he thinks that his only son is dead."

Her eyes are hard. Joker trembles in his spot. Mally withdraws her hands from the seven-year-old's ears and sits back down. "You know that I love you as if you were my own son, but this is the single most terrible thing that you have ever done."

Joker blinks in quick succession, eyes a dark glimmer between his lashes. "I'm sorry," he whispers, hands clenching into fists. "I didn't know what else to do." His teeth come together and he flees from the room, letting the front door slam heavily behind him as he runs out of the house, barefoot - _stupid, stupid stupid_ \- no wallet - _absolute fucking idiot!_ \- and runs to the only place that he knows he can go, a place where he might be killed, but Joker is okay with it, he'd allow himself to be killed by this person, always would, always will.

-

The old woman that comes to the door is not Ciel. She takes Joker in with a puzzled look, grey brows drawn together. She is still quite pretty in an ageless, old Hollywood kind of way, but, she is still isn't Ciel. She allows Joker in, introduces herself as Victoria, lets Joker sit on a plastic covered couch that is very different from the floral one with the broken spring that Ciel hadn't allowed him to sleep on. He cannot even stomach to think of what her bedroom looks like, but despite the overpowering old lady smell, there is something still distinctly Ciel inside.

"Well, how long ago did you move in?"

Victoria hums in her throat, face soft, eyes wrinkled at the corners. "It's been about a month and a half," she says, watching as Joker glances around the sitting room. It's clean, much cleaner than Ciel kept it, no mugs on the sill, no sweaters draped over the back of chairs, no books or DVDs anywhere. "I suppose whomever you're looking for didn't tell you that they were moving, did they?"

Joker's teeth come together with a soft, audible click, tense. "No," he says, firmly, "he didn't." He stands, hands at his side. "I have an idea of where he went, however, so thank you very much for letting me in." He moves into the hallway, only for Victoria to stop him.

"Excuse me, young man," she calls, standing up, "but I can't let you leave like that. It's still cold out - you'll catch your death if you go out barefoot. My husband passed away a few years ago, but I still have some of his things; I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I gave you a pair of his boots." She smiles, leads Joker into the bedroom that he has been dreading, heart going a million miles an hour. It is still soft, cream colored. His bed is gone, all personal affects missing, but Joker can still feel him, can smell roses, can remember his touch the night that they slept together if he shuts his eyes. "Here you are," Victoria says, returning with a pair of shiny, well cared for boots and some thick socks, handing them to Joker.

"Thank you," he murmurs, taking a seat on the ground to pull the boots on, lacing them up firmly. They're nearly two sizes too big, but they will do for now, to get to where he needs to go.

Victoria watches him with silent amusement, her lips curled into a soft smile. "You really care for the person you're looking for, don't you? It's not often to see a young man like you these days: devoted, earnest." She grins, letting out a soft little chuckle. "My Albert would've liked you, I think. He was a good reader of people, and I think he would've said that you have a good heart."

Joker could laugh, could riot. He stands up, hugs the woman, thanks her, leaves her apartment. He is not a good person, is not devoted nor earnest, has a heart of black treacle. He is a monster - a pentapod monster - but he loves Ciel. Ciel is so bright, so luminous, and Joker wants to fall into him, wants to just breathe his air again, but if Ciel is where he thinks that he is, then this is practically a suicide mission. He will die at the hands of Sebastian, be choked to death in front of Ciel, stars doubling in his vision.

He doesn't want that, doesn't want to be killed in front of the only person that he's ever loved, wearing a dead stranger's boots.

But, as he makes the trek to Sebastian's flat, where he has only been once, has never been inside, he comes to terms with it. He has ruined everything in his life - if he really dies, for a second time, it will be okay. No one will mind. No one will mourn him because to the world, except for a select few, he is buried in a pinewood box in the cemetery, six feet under and rotting. If he dies, he will die in Ciel's vicinity, and that is okay, even if he can't die by Ciel's hands, to die in front of him is still an honor, a blessing.

Joker slips into the building behind a middle-aged woman, paces in the lobby of the building for what feels like hours. He is too afraid to move, too afraid to climb the stairs and face his fears, too afraid to see his masturbatory aid for the first time in almost two months. He is afraid to see Ciel, despite all of the self confidence he had been talking up inside of himself. He takes a deep breath and begins to climb the stairs, hearing Ciel's voice in his head,  _I'm still here, I've always been here for you._

He takes the stairs two at a time, blood pulsing so loudly in his eyes that he can hardly hear, vision going black around the edges. He remembers the buttons that Ciel had pressed, remembers his little hands clenched into fists in upset, tears rolling down his cheeks. Joker runs down the hallway that he knows leads to Sebastian's flat - he has never been here before, but his body is acting on autopilot, fight response triggered. 

It feels like he is trudging through water, clothes heavy as he skids to a stop in front of Sebastian's door, banging on it so hard that his hand hurts, he could be bleeding, but when the door pulls open, blue eyes flashing - fuck - he doesn't care, everything is worth it when he sees confusion run through Ciel's features, quickly replaced by rage, an anger that Joker has never seen before.

"What the fuck?!" Ciel steps backwards and then lunges forward, hands flat against Joker's chest, shoving, pushing him so hard that Joker falls into the hallway, hands catching in the fibers of the carpet. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He's screaming, inconsolable, even when Joker stands, teeth clenched together. He slams the door in Joker's face, trying to lock it as quickly as he can, but Joker is faster, forcing the door to Sebastian's flat open.

"Ciel, please!" Joker rushes towards him, doing his best to inhale as much of Ciel's scent as he can, roses, honey, love. He grabs Ciel, wraps his arm around him in a hug as Ciel squirms, trying to wedge his hands against Joker's chest to push out of his grasp. "Let me explain, please!"

Ciel does not stop resisting, angrier than ever. "I went to your fucking funeral!" he shouts, stomping hand on Joker's foot, but he can feel nothing through the boots. 

_Thanks, Albert._

"Get away from me, you fucking monster! Wait until Sebastian gets home, he'll kill you!" He manages to push hard enough away from Joker, running into the kitchen where he grabs a knife from the block that sits on the island. It's almost humorous, this tiny wisp of a boy, wearing a shirt that's too big for him, knees shaking as he holds a knife at arm's length to threaten Joker. "You're a fucking monster!" Ciel yells again, thrusting the knife forward, and if the situation weren't so serious, Joker would howl with laughter, double over, and then fuck Ciel, right then and there.

Instead, he lowers himself to kneel on the floor, hands together in mock prayer above his head. "I'm begging you, Ciel. Let me explain." He looks up, eyes wet. "Please. I just want to talk to you."

Ciel's nostrils flare, and he does not drop his defensive stance. "Get out of my house. Now, Joker. I thought I told you that I never wanted to see you again. And... and, after the shit that you pulled - I wish that you were dead." His hands tremble. He is like a deer in headlights, deathly afraid and deathly angry. "How could you fucking do that? You're a coward, a spineless excuse for a man."

Joker breathes out a soft laugh, drawing back up to his full height. "You're right," he says,  _gently, Joker, gently,_ and steps forward slowly, just enough to barely bridge the gap between them. "I'm not a man. I'm a weak little boy, pretending to be an adult. My own father thinks that I'm dead, and so did you." He pulls the knife from Ciel's grip, sets it down nearby, just out of Ciel's reach. "Do you know how hard it was for me to keep my calm when you were so close to me?" He licks his bottom lip, eyes darting over Ciel's face. "But, I'm here now, I've joined you, just like you wanted. It doesn't matter if it's an orange-colored day or not, Ciel, because I'm not going anywhere, and I forgive you."

" _You_ forgive  _me?"_

Ciel's eyes narrow into sapphire slits, burning in the light of midday that creeps through the window in the kitchen. "How dare you?" he hisses, stepping forward until his chest bumps into Joker's, raised up on his toes. "I have never... never done anything to warrant your fucking forgiveness. You're so wrapped up in yourself, Joker. How do you sleep at night?"

"Pretty well," Joker responds breezily, "I think about you when I masturbate, and then I'm off to bed." This is wrong. His body is screaming, pulling on the reigns,  _stop, stop stop!_ This isn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to walk into the apartment, reveal himself as a fraud and a liar, and then leave, hand in hand with Ciel, as Sebastian sobbed loudly in the background. He is wrong, all of a sudden volatile, filled with venom and ink. 

"I hate you." Ciel's chest rises and falls to a tempo that Joker will never forget, will play on as a beat inside his head forever. "You're a terrible person, a horrible son. Your mother would be ashamed of you!" Color rises high in his cheeks and again, he shoves at Joker, not moving him very much this time. "Get out of my house," he parrots, "get out now!"

Joker barks out a laugh, cold, callous.  _Wrong, wrong, wrong!_ "Your house?!" he shouts, chest hitching with a wheezy laugh, "are you two playing mummy and daddy?" He swipes his thumb against his bottom lip, grinning. This is not right, this is not him. "Has he conned you into thinking that you're welcome here, that he truly loves you? I met with the old woman that moved into your flat; she's quite nice." 

Ciel's hands curl into tiny fists. Joker can feel them pressed against his chest. "I want you to leave. Now. I won't ask again." There is something different about Ciel. He has a steely resolve, is no longer the soft-boned boy that Joker had once knew. He is not scared or insecure, is standing up to Joker, up to this mean side of him. "Please, Joker. Just leave. If you leave now, I won't tell Sebastian that you came here. He'll never know, I'll never tell him."

There is something in Ciel's eyes, glittering, that says he is telling the truth. Joker wants to trust him, but not nearly as much as he wants to love him. And so, he says it. "I love you," he murmurs, not expecting anything in return. "I just want you to know. It's why I did what I did. Because if I was dead, you two would be able to live in peace, and I would just be bones in a box somewhere. I'm sorry. For everything that I've done to you, Ciel, I am sorry." 

"It was dishonorable," Ciel says, not looking at Joker. That's okay. He's come to terms with the fact that Ciel will never, has never, loved him.This meeting - this intrusion has been an awakening. "Your hair looks bad like that."

Joker scoffs, hand rubbing at the back of his buzzed head. "I know," he says softly. "I thought it would be a good way to blend in. I guess not, huh?" He could cry, could disintegrate into a billion flakes of ash. "I'll leave now. For good, this time." He takes a small breath, jaw pulsing. "I'm so lucky to have met you," Joker murmurs, pushing a stray hair out of Ciel's eyes with the pads of his fingertips, barely touching, a ghost of a person.

Ciel flinches away from his touch, steps backward. "Sebastian will be home any minute. Go down the back flight of stairs so that he doesn't bump into you on his way in."

"You really love him, don't you?" Joker's eyes glitter like stars. "Perhaps if I had met you earlier, in a different time, in a different life, we could be together." It's hopeful bullshit, but the way that Ciel softly shakes his head hurts more than anything in the world.

"I don't think so," he says softly, picking at the cuticle of his left ring finger. "I think that Sebastian and I were meant to be together. Call it whatever you want, fate, destiny - whatever. We were meant to be here, meant to be together." Ciel smiles, and Christ, Joker still loves him. He may very well love Ciel until the day he actually dies, inevitably alone, but maybe not sad. "I wish we could be friends," Ciel says, eyes earnest and clear, "I wish we could part on better terms."

Joker lets out a soft little scoff, pulling the door open. "Perhaps," he begins, stepping out into the hallway, "somewhere, someday, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again." He takes a mental image of Ciel's face as the door closes, locking softly with a click: cheeks flushed, lips nerve-bitten, ultramarine eyes wide, thickly lashed and beyond breathtaking. If he were any kind of artist, Joker would paint, draw that frame of Ciel over and over again, hang posters of it in restaurants, spray-paint it onto walls in town, get a tattoo of it on the inner skin of his eyelids. "At a less miserable time," he whispers to himself as he walks down the hallway - and he means it.

He, for all intents and purposes, is determined to Ciel again - one orange-colored day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, a short chapter. mainly just exposition, tryna get the plot moving along kind of. idk where we'll go from here. lets have fun and find out together! also its currently 12:40 am as i upload this so pls ignore any typos or anything lmaooo thnx


	15. acquainted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cozy moments, some new-old faces, a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooo! hope youre all doing well! if youve read anything of mine before, yall should know whats coming. two words: lady. phantomhive.
> 
> also, a very warm thank you to everyone that leaves comments and kudos. they really, really mean a lot.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

"A viscount?"

Ciel sits on the island in the middle of the kitchen, head tilted softly to the side. He's nearly naked, save for his underwear, resting back on his palms, elbows straight, feet swinging freely off the counter's edge. 

Sebastian makes a sound, soft in his throat, looking up from the canvas that he's been working on for the past few hours. "Yes. Druitt, he's an old... well, I wouldn't necessarily call him a friend, but we aren't exactly on bad terms with one another." He licks the corner of his mouth, returns his paintbrush into the pot of blue, dabbing softly at the portrait of Ciel that he had been more than thrilled to do, especially after his boy had begged him so sweetly, eyes bright in the moonlight.

"And, he's having a party?" He squints briefly, allows his face to relax when Sebastian chastises him quietly, _stay still_. "How do you two know each other?"

Letting out a small sigh, Sebastian sets down his brush and combs his fingers through his hair, head tipping backwards, Adam's apple dipping in his throat. "He was an English teacher at the school where I met Doll; he seemed to have the same penchant for underage students that I did, so we got along quite well. He's a very smart man, but has absolutely not common sense at all. It's a shame, really. Anyway," he continues, getting up from his stool, crossing the room to help Ciel off of the island, lifting him as if he's made of feather-down pillows, "every year, he hosts a party at his estate - I've managed to avoid him for this long, but, he's latched onto Nina and won't stop calling her."

Ciel tugs a t-shirt over his head and pads into the living room where he collapses onto the couch, exhaling loudly. "What kind of a party is it? Like, Hannibal season three dinner-party type of party, or Rocky Horror type of party?"

"Neither," Sebastian says, sinking into spot beside Ciel, pulling his feet into his lap, pressing his thumbs hard enough into the soles of Ciel's feet to make him melt into the couch, "it's the same thing that it is every year: a masquerade. He invites the same two hundred people every year, they all wear the same costumes, get drunk and have sex with one another. He likes the human body in the same way that I do - likes to see how lust and desire can push people past the edge, can overtake fear or triumph in any situation."

His teeth come together with a soft sound that is almost inaudible to Ciel, head against the arm of the couch. "I think it sounds kind of fun," Ciel murmurs, "I've never been to a masquerade before. Well, unless you count the Halloween party that Alois and I went to our last year before university, but... I don't. Alois probably doesn't either." 

"I would like to see you all dressed up," Sebastian muses, squeezing gently at Ciel's calves, earning a soft little whine from his boy. "But, I don't trust Druitt around someone like you, and I don't know what it will be like, seeing him after all of these years." He pulls Ciel into his lap, kisses his nose. "I've heard that he has a boyfriend now, maybe he'll be too preoccupied with his toy to even look at you."

Ciel raises his brows, almost taken aback. "What? Do you think I'm not cute enough to distract your friend?" He lets out a little scoff, fingers traipsing up Sebastian's chest, straddling his lap. "You don't think that your friend, the viscount, would want to fuck me? Perhaps, while you watched?" He tilts his head, a coquettish smile on his lips, rosy and coy.

Sebastian's mouth opens slightly, eyes wide as color dances into his cheeks. "I wouldn't let you-"

"You wouldn't let me?" Ciel parrots, fingers at Sebastian's zipper, unblinking. "What would you do to stop me? How would you punish me?" He leans forward, nips at Sebastian's bottom lip. "Tell me," he whispers, voice dangerously low, "Daddy."

With a low, playful growl, Sebastian pounces, pushing Ciel backwards onto the couch, a knee shoved in between his thighs. "You would let some stranger fuck you?" His voice is rough, left hand pinning Ciel's wrists up above his head while the other fists into his shirt, face dangerously close. "I'll fuck you in front of everyone, even Druitt, just to make sure that everyone knows you're mine." He moves his knee slightly, and Ciel's teeth come together, brows furrowed. "What happened, kitten? All bark and no bite?"

Ciel lets out a weak little laugh, head tipping backwards. "How you would stop Druitt from getting his hands on me? How would you stop me from fucking him?"

"I'd strip you naked," Sebastian begins, teeth pressing against one of the tendons in Ciel's neck, "make you suck me off in front of everyone, cum all over your face. I'd make Druitt watch while I fucked you, make him look at your face when you came." His knees presses upward, winning a little whine from Ciel, who is  _this close_ to shucking his clothes off, only to be interrupted by the sound of keys in the door, suddenly thrust open by a giggling Nina and a smiling Grell.

"My, seems we're interrupting something," Grell muses as Sebastian sits up with a loud exhale, smoothing out his shirt. "I got a call from Goodview Pictures; they loved Sascha's shoot and want to do a feature article on him," she says, taking a seat on the loveseat, setting her bag on the ground.

Ciel glances at the ground, startled by a pang of jealousy, only for it to be washed away by the feeling of Sebastian's hand at the nape of his neck, strong, safe.

"I thought that I've told you two before to stop dropping by unannounced." There is a smear of paint above Sebastian's left eyebrow; Ciel leaves it there. "Anyway, that's fine. Set up an interview between them, or whatever. It's not really in my jurisdiction to tell him what he can and can't do - he's only my model."

Nina's arms fold across her chest, dark brows drawn in a stern expression. "Now that that's out of the way, what are you going to do about Druitt? He left nineteen messages on my cellphone, thirteen on my home phone, and twenty-six on the studio's machine. I could kill him, Sebastian, I really could. If you go and, I don't know, make a mess of his stupid party or something, he probably won't invite you to the next one. Please, just call him and tell him that you'll go see he can stop calling me!"

Sebastian's head tilts backwards with the dramatics of a sixteen-year-old, and he sighs, rolling his eyes. "Fine, I'll call him tonight, after my session with Ran-Mao-"

"You'll call him right now," Nina challenges, straightening her posture into something that could be called defensive if she weren't as soft as a marshmallow. "I'm not leaving until you ring and tell him, and Grell is my girlfriend, and she'll stay because she loves me, not because she has the sense of duty to do so." Her velveteen eyes catch Ciel's, and she smiles sweetly, head tipping. "Ciel, sweetheart, would you please convince Sebastian to call that mean old viscount for me, so that he'll stop bothering me? I'd love to have a chance to dress you up for the party as well."

Ciel's lips pull apart into a grimace, and he exhales quietly, body slumping in defeat. "It can't hurt to at least call," he says quietly, earning a loud whoop from Nina and a shocked cry from Sebastian. "I've never been to a real masquerade before; it might be fun."

"I thought you were on my side!" Sebastian says, brows drawn as he straightens up to his full height, hands on his hips.

"I am on your side," Ciel placates, hands held up in surrender, "but... it'd be good to get you out of the house, and out of the studio! Meet some new people, maybe make some new connections!" His forehead creases with a pout, lashes fluttering. "I would really like to go. Pretty please?" Despite Nina and Grell being there, he leans in close, fingers touching at Sebastian's shirt, cotton fabric soft against his skin. "We could get all dressed up, just you and me. Please?"

Sebastian exhales through his nose, jaw pulsing. "Don't look at me like that," he says, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine, we can go. But, on one condition: I get to pick your costume."

"And I'm making it!" Nina chimes in giddily, jiggling in her seat softly.

Face splitting with a smile, something dark flashes in Sebastian's eyes, something that Ciel does not like. "Can you walk in heels?"

-

Ciel's fingers curl against the wall, chin tipped in towards his chest. He's panting, legs spread apart, thighs trembling as he loses the energy and the will to keep himself standing. "Can't breathe," he murmurs, voice barely a whimper, knees beginning to knock together. A low, dull pain builds in the base of his spine, toes spreading apart as he does his best to stay upright against the relentless pull-tug-pull-tug that comes from behind him, body threatening to give up.

He drags in a shaking breath, and turns his head slightly to the side, tears beginning to well in his eyes, lips glistening. "I can't take anymore," he whines, hands trembling. When there is another series of tug-pull-tug-pull, that does it.

"Nina!" Ciel shouts, "I can't breathe, you minger!" He can feel his rib-cage shifting beneath the corset's death-like grip as he does his best to wrench out of Nina's threatening hands, earning a smack on the shoulders from her.

"Stay still," Nina reprimands, "if you keep squirming around, we'll never be finished!" She pushes her palm in between Ciel's shoulder blades, forcing him back around, sucking in a breath. In that short moment, Nina knots the corset's strings tightly, hard enough for Ciel to gasp again, hip bones shifting with the pressure of the garment. 

He lets out a little wheeze and Nina pulls away, clapping her hands together, satisfied with her work. "There, look at you! Like a proper young lady." 

"Bite me, bitch," Ciel hisses, ribs rubbing together with every breath he takes. "Sebastian better fuck me 'til the cows come home after this, or it's on everyone's heads, hear me?"

Nina rolls her eyes, helping Ciel step into a black dress, a slinky, slutty number that Nina had sewn with Sebastian's ideas in mind. It rides up on his thin thighs, displaying little peeks of the lace underwear that Nina had forced him into if he even moves in slightly the wrong direction. The makeup makes Ciel sneeze, the wig tickles his shoulders and elbows, and the shoes rub his ankles raw before Nina slaps him silly with band-aids and forces him into thigh high stockings. 

"Ready to see my masterpiece?" she asks, but does not wait for a response. Nina plops Ciel in front of the floor length mirror that she had lugged into the bathroom before the transformation, and he is nearly taken aback.

The person that stands in the mirror is absolutely beautiful. Milky blue eyes peek out from heavy false lashes, rosy cheeks and glossy lips, sharp collarbones, long, silky hair that stops at their rib-cage. Skin peeks out from a lace inlay just above their hips, right beneath where the corset sits. It's Ciel, and he realizes it when Nina lays a hand on his shoulder, smiling softly.

"Beautiful, right?" she asks, and Ciel nods breathlessly, cheeks flushing.

"Beautiful," he parrots, and is overcome with a desire to see Sebastian. He looks at Nina, lashes fluttering. "Can I go see Sebastian?" His voice is soft, barely there.

Nina smiles, kisses Ciel on the forehead. "Of course, sweetheart. I think he'd like to see you, too. But, if you mess up your makeup, I'll personally wring both of your necks."

Ciel dashes from the bathroom, shoes long forgotten, nearly slipping on the tile floor in his socked feet as he runs to the sitting room, where Nina had banished Sebastian so that she could do her work in peace. He skids to a halt when he sees Sebastian on the couch, wearing a suit, some hair gel, a pair of half-moon glasses strung around his neck on a gold chain. His head is tipped to the side, eyes shut, mouth open just enough for Ciel to see the very bottoms of Sebastian's front teeth.

He smiles, pads across the room and sinks into place at Sebastian's side, fingers curling into one of the flaps of Sebastian's open blazer. "I love you," Ciel murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the spot behind Sebastian's ear, "my old man." He melts against Sebastian, feeling more at ease than he ever has before. Everything, his whole life, his past, Doll, his parents,  _everything,_ seems to disappear as he drifts off to sleep, wearing a dress, on the couch.

-

"Ciel, sweetheart, it's time to get up and go." He is roused by the soft sound of Sebastian's voice, his skin warm with sleep. Ciel stretches his arms up over his head and yawns quietly, reaching up a hand to rub at his left eye, only to be stopped. "The makeup," Sebastian murmurs, his fingers curled around Ciel's wrist. "Don't want to incur the wrath of Nina before we have to head out, do we?"

Shaking his head softly, Ciel lets out another little yawn and stands, feel sleepy and almost childlike. "What time is it?" he asks, voice a whisper, as he takes Sebastian's hand and steps into his heels, gripping on Sebastian's bicep for balance.

"Just a little after ten," Sebastian responds, brushing a wave of dark hair behind Ciel's ear. "You look gorgeous. It's a shame I have to take you somewhere, because what I'd really love to do is just get you in bed, all to myself. No ropes, no cameras - just you, me, and those fucking clothes." He pushes Ciel out the door, a hand at the small of his back, and heat flushes through Ciel's cheeks. He swallows hard, hands trembling as they get into the lift.

"Don't tempt me," Ciel murmurs, "there's barely anything between me and this dress."

Sebastian exhales through his nose audibly, hands curling into fists. "I'm well aware of that, sweetheart. Do you know easy it would be for me to just fuck you, right here and now?" His arms reach around Ciel's waist, hands gripping onto his hips hard enough to hurt.

"Don't," Ciel whines, thighs taut, "please. We'll never get to the party if you keep this up." He swallows thickly, running his fingers through the wig's ends, trying his best to seem uninterested, like he doesn't want Sebastian to fuck him in the lift, which seems to be taking fucking forever.

By the time the lift reaches the ground floor, Ciel is nearly a quivering mess. He's allowed himself a pace of two steps behind Sebastian, hands held behind his back, prim and proper, like a good young lady, but there is a kind of aura coming from Sebastian that Ciel has never experienced before. Sure, he is usually Large-and-in-Charge Sebastian, the Sebastian that orders him around and then pets his hair after everything is said and done - but this is a different Sebastian altogether.

He is dark and poised, a series of shadows coalesced into a person posing as a tutor, eyes like stars in his head. The way that he handles the car's gear shift is nearly sinful, and even though Ciel has had so many experiences with Sebastian's fingers, there is something enticing about him like this, jaw clenched, irritation seeping out of his pores.

"You look good," Ciel murmurs, but does not get a response from Sebastian. Passing streetlights flicker over his face, illuminating his features in a way that Ciel finds sensual, and for once in his life, he wishes that Sebastian had brought a camera, so Ciel could be behind it, could be the one taking pictures of him. "Are you upset with me?" he asks softly, reaching over to touch at Sebastian's wrist.

"I'm not," Sebastian says, knuckles white around the steering wheel. "I'm doing my best to keep my composure, because the sooner that we show up, the sooner we can leave. Understand?" He finally looks at Ciel when they make it to a stoplight, pupils blown, eyes heavily lidded.

Desire trembles up Ciel's spine with ghostly fingers, and he reaches over, across the center console and to Sebastian's lap, unzipping his slacks with as much finesse as he can, throat working through a swallow. "I can do something to hold you over," he says, voice wavering, unable to find a footing.

Sebastian's Adam's apple bobs and his teeth come together, jaw pulsing. "Minx," he whispers as Ciel coaxes his cock out, already half-hard, warm in Ciel's palm. "If we wreck, and I die with my dick out, I'm going to haunt you." His stomach muscles clench when Ciel's thumb sweeps over the tip of his cock, a coquettish smile on his painted face, lips glossy, and  _God,_ does Sebastian want a blowjob right now, but road head has never lead to anything good.

"Feel good?" Ciel asks coyly, voice pitched to mimic that of a girl's, hand sliding up and down at a pace that nearly makes Sebastian shut his eyes.

"Why do y-you get to jack me off in the car, but when we were in the lift - Christ! - you acted like it would be the worst thing in the entire world if I fucked you?" His jaw pulses when they come to another stoplight. In the minivan that sits beside them is a wide-eyed mother, crossing herself as she says something, most likely a prayer, that Sebastian cannot hear. "You're such a fucking tease sometimes."

Ciel leans across the center console to kiss the side of Sebastian's face, lips catching at his temple. "When we get home, I'm all yours," he murmurs, wrenching his wrist, earning a stifled moan from Sebastian. "All yours, however you want me." His pace increases, and Sebastian's hips make aborted, jerky movements up against his hand. "On my hands and knees, on the kitchen counter, I don't care." He gives one more final tug before Sebastian cums, splattering on the lap of his slacks and barely catching on his suit jacket.

"Christ," Sebastian groans, rooting around in the glove box for something to clean up the mess, much to Ciel's amusement. "This is your fault, stop laughing."

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" Ciel giggles as he dabs at Sebastian's clothes. He tosses the napkin to the floorboard, and looks out the window. "I've been here before," he says, brows drawn as he racks his brain for why this neighborhood is so familiar.

Sebastian lifts a brow as he pulls into the open gate of a home, careening into a parking spot on the lawn. "You've been here? Why?"

Ciel grimaces as he unbuckles his seat belt, glancing around at the garish green hedges and spotlights implanted in the ground that beam brighter than the sun. "I don't know - I just swear I've been here before. It's freaking me out, kind of." He steps out of the car as daintily as he can and shuts the door, resting his hand prettily on Sebastian's bicep as they walk up to the house, slowly, making sure that Ciel's heels don't catch in any holes in the cobbled pavement.

"Well, we'll get some liquor in you, make some pleasantries, and then I'll get you home and take your mind off it, hm?" 

They make it to the door, and when Sebastian lets the heavy lion-shaped door knocker smack against the wood, Ciel is overcome with a sense of deja vu. "I  _swear,_ " he insists, listening as the door pulls open, "I've been here before." He settles back into place when the host steps into view, and Ciel's jaw falls slack, brows drawn. "Aleister?"

Aleister Chamber, aka Druitt, aka the viscount, stands in the doorway, ice blond hair brushing at his shoulders, an ornate mask laid over his pale eyes. He smiles, tilting his head as he displays straight, tile-white teeth. "I'd recognize those legs anywhere," he says, "Ciel fucking Phantomhive, how nice to see you. You keep up quite nicely; you look like the perfect young lady." He extends a hand, which Ciel takes, only to immediately pull out of his grip when Aleister presses his lips to the back of Ciel's knuckles.

"I wasn't aware that you two knew each other," Sebastian says, fists clenched at his sides.

"He's Alois' cousin," Ciel explains, grabbing onto Sebastian's hand, soothing, comforting. "He used to buy us alcohol all the time when we were in secondary school." He flashes his best smile, head tilted so that the wig's ends fall just to his elbow. "Aren't you going to invite us in?"

-

"You really didn't try very hard on your costume," Aleister murmurs as Sebastian gets Ciel a drink, something sweet and sugary. "I mean, I even invited some of the people I used to teach with, and they did a much better job than you did."

Sebastian rolls his eyes, leaning against the bar's counter, keeping an eye on his boy, whom many masked strangers have been flirting with. "Look, you're lucky that I even showed up. I didn't want to come; Ciel persuaded me. He can be very persuasive when he wants to be, that minx." He takes the glass that the bespectacled bartender passes to him, and crosses over to Ciel. "Here, sweetheart. Come with me."

"Where are we going?" 

Ciel's eyes have gone lazy in his head - he's already had two shots, both vodka, and the next drink will certainly make his body like jello. 

"We're going upstairs," Sebastian says, taking Ciel's free hand, pulling his lithe body closer, so that they are nearly chest to chest, Sebastian's other hand at the small of Ciel's back. "I told you what Aleister is like - but his friends, they're much, much worse." He helps Ciel up the marble staircase, carefully,  _slowly, Sebastian, slowly,_ and when they reach the upper parlor, it's like all the breath has been knocked out of Ciel.

Men, women, strangers, friends are all fucking, hands bound with rope, eyes covered with silk, mouths monophthongol around cocks and toys.

Heat rushes into the space between Ciel's thighs as he lets out a little breath, legs trembling. "Wow," he whispers, body pliant as Sebastian lowers him onto a loveseat, taking his near empty glass from his limp fingers. Ciel does not remember drinking it. He does not remember taking his shoes off. However, all the same, he is there, masqueraded like everyone else, fucking like everyone else, head tipped backwards as he rides Sebastian. 

They are both still clothed, Ciel's fingers curled into the lapels of Sebastian's suit jacket, his cock straining against the lace fabric of his underwear.

He has never done anything like this before. Ciel is not that kind of a person, or, at least, he wasn't - but maybe he's become that person since meeting Sebastian, since finding out that sex did not have to be quiet, no moon-talk at all now, only dark listening to dark. He has since learned that sex can feel fucking amazing, toe-curlingly good, good enough that he hardly feels Sebastian's bruising grip, fingers dug tight in the curve of Ciel's hipbones.

Many moons ago, Ciel was shy, nervous, a shut-in. He had no friends, no self-esteem, and no job. But now, now he has blossomed into this ravenous creature, a confident conman with thighs like gold and a tongue like silver. He is persuasive, soft-hearted, sexual in ways that he could never have imagined. He thinks about his mother, thinks about she looks like God, could be God, and he is not a sinner, no matter how much people want to push the name onto him.

Ciel is pure of flesh and mind, and he becomes greatly aware of this when Sebastian sinks his teeth into the soft spot right beside Ciel's collarbone, drawing droplets of blood that roll down his bicep, stain into the front of Sebastian's shirt.

He loves this, loves fucking where people can see them, surrounded by other people fucking, all of them sharing a sense of anonymity, some lovers that will go home together, some strangers that will never cross paths again.

This is what love feels like, Ciel realizes. It is being unabashedly, unashamedly someone else's - mind and body, even when others can see. It is not what he and Lawrence shared, cold and quiet, silent forehead kisses in the morning. It is not what Joker felt for him, fiery hot and unrequited. He could get addicted to this, could fall even deeper down the rabbit hole than he already has.

"I love you, I love you," Sebastian murmurs into the space below Ciel's throat, body warm, like molten glass. "I want you to marry me."

Warmth builds in Ciel's abdomen as tears begin to stream down his face, black mascara tracks staining his cheeks. "Yes," he says, breathlessly, fucking himself on Sebastian's cock harder than he ever has before, arms curled around his neck, whispering behind his ear. "Yes, I will, I will." 

He loves Sebastian, loves him like he's never loved anyone else.

All past mistakes are washed away, and Ciel is reborn in Sebastian's arms, clenched around him, in a room filled with people he doesn't know, wearing a dress and a wig. He has never felt pleasure like this before, and now he knows that he will feel it forever.


	16. chances are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a real proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah i wasnt even expecting that last chap to go the way that it did???????????? so pls i am just as shocked as everyone else. hope youre all well. also this felt like it took a long time to get out. sorry.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

"This one," Sebastian says, tapping gently at the jewelry display, "I'd like to see this one."

Grell watches with her brows raised as the jeweler pulls out the ring, arms crossed over her chest. "I can't believe you two are really doing this," she says, "it seems like only yesterday, you two met in Bard's bar for the first time." She comes closer, tucking a red wave behind her ear, learning over Sebastian's shoulder to look at the ring that he holds in between his index finger and thumb. "He won't like that one," Grell says of the ornate silver band that Sebastian is currently viewing, much to his dismay.

"How do you know what he likes?"

Grell breathes out a little laugh, leaning against the glass display, earning a nasty look from the jeweler. "You and I are a lot alike, 'Bastian. Ciel is a lot like Nina." When Sebastian's face contorts into a look of distaste, Grell scoffs, rolling her eyes. "That's my girlfriend you're grimacing about - and okay, maybe not a lot alike, but they do share some similarities. They're both kind of childish, with those big, dopey eyes and that heart-melting smile. Ciel is a simple boy, he's easy-going, he's madly in love with you. He's not like you; he isn't going to want some gaudy ring as a conversation piece." She straightens up, points a simple gold band, glimmering in the light. "I think he'd like something like this. Demure, simple, but still elegant, still nice enough to catch people's attention."

 _Damn._ He doesn't want to admit it, but, when Grell is right, she's right. 

Sebastian sighs, hands the ring back to the man that stands behind the display. "May I see this one?" he asks, pointing to the one that Grell had mentioned, and as soon as he holds it, Sebastian knows that Grell is really right. If he shuts his eyes, he can see it on Ciel's left hand, small, snug, gleaming in the moonlight as he sleeps in their bed, naked to the waist, one hand under his cheek, the other resting on Sebastian's pillow.

"I'd like this one in size J, please," Sebastian murmurs, setting the ring on the glass top, exhaling. "I can't believe this is happening," he says, voice barely a whisper, combing his fingers through his hair. He loves Ciel, is absolutely sure about that - but Sebastian has never done anything like this before. He had never thought about getting married to Doll before, even when he was happy, when they were good. 

Sebastian loved Doll, loved him with every fibre of his being, but he never pictured standing at the alter with him, holding hands, reciting vows. He often thought of moving to the beach with Doll, where Doll was really happy, where he seemed to blossom, gleaming in the sun. He thought about buying a house, living together after Doll graduated from university. Once everything fell apart, Sebastian lost that hope, the ability to imagine something that hadn't happened yet, that hadn't been set in stone.

Meeting Ciel had - has - changed him. He loves Ciel, loves the way that his eyes light up when he sees something that interests him, loves the way that his lips curl just at the corners before he smiles, the way that he tries his hardest, always, no matter the situation. He loves Ciel like he has never loved anyone else, like he never even loved Doll. 

Sebastian wants to make Ciel happy, wants a big house somewhere quiet, with hardwood floors, and at least two children, a perfect blend of their looks, with Ciel's tenacity and kindness, and Sebastian's straightforwardness. They are not even married yet, not even properly engaged yet, and Sebastian can already imagine himself getting older with Ciel, who will age gracefully, much slower than Sebastian,forever shimmering and blooming, as bright as the sun. With Ciel at his side, Sebastian feels as if he can do anything.

-

"How will you propose?" Grell asks as they sit across from one another at a brightly lit cafe, watching people pass by the large window, sipping at cups of tea.

Sebastian nearly properly chokes, turning his head away as he coughs into his elbow, cheeks flushed. "I have no idea," he says, once he can breathe again, exhaling loudly. "If it were up to me, I'd do it in some big, extravagant way: take him to a restaurant, put the ring in his glass, get down on one knee, have the whole restaurant get up and clap and sing, but... he wouldn't want that. I think he'd be embarrassed if there were that many people."

Drumming her nails against the table top, Grell hums in her throat. "Maybe you should do it at Bard's bar. Or, maybe you should do it at home. Spur of the moment thing, like you did at Aleister's. Maybe not in the middle of fucking, because that would make getting the ring on a little difficult, don't you think?"

"I cannot fucking believe you," Sebastian hisses, face going warm, "I told you that in confidence! Anyway, no, I won't do it like that. I want it to be special, want it to be quiet, calm. I don't want to make it a big production - well, I do, but rather, I can't. I just want him to be comfortable. I want to make him happy."

Grell smiles, touching gently at Sebastian's knee. "You do make him happy, dear. I met him before you did. Briefly, granted, but I could tell - he was just so little and sad, all wind-chafed and blue-eyed, and then you two met and got closer, and he smiled more, he laughed more, he went out more. You opened him up, Sebastian, in more ways than one. You helped him out of his shell, and I know that he's grateful to you, for meeting you." She picks up her mug, eyes Sebastian over its rim. "Even if you two hadn't ended up together, like this, I think it was still important that you two met; maybe you were meant to meet."

Sebastian swallows hard, jaw clenching. "I told Doll that," he says, eyes unfocused, "that I was meant to meet Ciel, that we were meant to be together. He told me that I could let go, that it was okay if I gave myself over to Ciel entirely."

Grell's thin brows draw together, her head cocking to the side in confusion. "I'm sorry - what do you mean you told that to Doll? Sweetheart, Doll's been-"

"Dead for sixteen years, I know. It's a long story, but... I met him in this like, weird, mirage-type dream world, except I was awake, I know that I was awake. He looked exactly how I had left him, all small and pale, and even though we were so close, I didn't feel anything for him. Once upon a time, I would've died for Doll, hell, I almost did, but... in that moment, all we talked about was Ciel." He licks his lips nervously, staring out the window, watching as people walk by. "That's when I knew - I mean, I knew before, but, that really solidified it for me. I loved Doll, but I love Ciel, with everything in my body. I love him, and he loves me, and I just feel like... I don't know, like we complete each other. Do you know what I mean?"

When he looks back at Grell, there are tears in her eyes and his tea has gone cold. "Don't cry!" he says, shoving napkins into her hands, brushing at her cheeks with his fingers. "Why are you crying, you ninny?"

"I've never heard you talk about anyone like that," Grell murmurs, tears dripping down her face, splashing onto the table below. "You never even talked about Doll like that. I'm just... I'm so happy for you, because you lived in this shell, in his shadow for so long, and it was always like no one was good enough for you, no matter how many dates I set you up on, no many how many men you matched with on Grindr or all those other stupid dating sites that I signed you up for." She sniffs, drags her wrist across her nose. "I'm so glad to see you happy, my dear, I really am."

A smile touches at Sebastian's mouth and he glances down, biting his bottom lip. "You've stuck with me through it all," he says, reaching over to take her hand in his own, "and I am forever indebted to you. Will you be my best man at the wedding?"

Grell's face falls, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "You mean it?" she asks, voice wet and warbling, clutching onto Sebastian's shirt sleeve. "I'd be so... so fucking honored," she says after he nods, still smiling. "Can Nina be the flower girl or something?"

"Isn't that usually a role given to children?"

"How many kids do you know, Sebastian?"

His brows crease, and then Sebastian smiles again, straightening up. "Actually, I know the perfect kid."

-

Sullivan had looked surprised to see Sebastian standing at her front door, armed with a tall cup of iced coffee and a single yellow daisy, eyes big and evergreen, but had easily let him in, much to the dismay of an ever hovering Wolfram.

"It's so good to see you, Mr. Michaelis! After you left the centre, we were all so worried about you, but... none of us knew how to contact you, or where you lived. I'm sorry that I didn't come to see you; have you been doing all right?" 

He exhales, sitting on the couch that her wheelchair is beside. Her flat is very spacious, wide-spaced and brightly lit, with fresh flowers on the windowsill and a candy dish on the counter that leads into the kitchen. "It was hard at first, but... Ciel's really helped me through it. But what about you, I mean, what's happened to the centre since I left? Did they find a new teacher?"

Blinking a few times, Sullivan's fingers fiddle with the straw of her cup, upper arms soft beneath the short sleeves of her blouse. "The photography class was disbanded," she says softly, "Mr. Argares couldn't find another teacher - more like, a teacher that we actually enjoyed, so he said that it couldn't continue the way that it was going. It was a little sad, with what happened to Joker right after."

"Did you attend his funeral?" The sound of his own voice shocks Sebastian, laced with malice and something akin to jealousy, because  _thank fuck,_ he didn't imagine Joker's death, it really did happen, but also  _oh shit,_ because he didn't imagine Joker's death, it really did happen, and the way that Sullivan's face crumples almost breaks his heart.

"I had a trip to the hospital that day," she murmurs, eyes downcast, "but I did go visit his father afterward. I brought him a few good movies and some sweets - things like that always make me feel better, so I just wanted him to have someone to share the hurt with. I was friends with Joker before we went to the centre; we both went to the same secondary school, and joined the same literature club. That's how we meet."

Sebastian breathes out a little smile, tilting his head softly. "He was a good student, wasn't he? Quite a handful, I'll admit, but he did bring an aspect of fun to the class. Ciel was also very fond of him."

At the mention of Ciel, Sullivan brightens, sitting up in her chair, a smile on her face. "Ciel! How is he? Come to think of it, why isn't he with you? I just assumed you two were always attached at the hip."

"Well, Ciel is actually the reason that I'm here," Sebastian begins, chest warm. "I've proposed to him, and I would like it if you would be a part of our wedding. You could pick whatever role you would like, but I think you would make a beautiful flower girl. Ciel and I, myself especially, don't know many children, and you were about the closest thing that I could think of. If you don't want to, I completely understand, but it would still mean a lot to Ciel if you showed up-"

"I would love to!" Sullivan claps her hands together so loudly that Wolfram runs into the room, eyes wide.

"Are you all right, Sieglinde?"

Her ears turn red at the sound of her given name, and Sullivan nods furiously, blackberry dark locks bouncing with her movements. "Fine, fine, we're fine, Wolfram, thank you!" She turns back towards Sebastian as Wolfram exits the room, a smile on her face like Sebastian has never seen her give before. "I would love to be the flower girl! I'd be the ring bearer as well, if I could. I'd play the organ and read the vows and cater everything. You have no idea how excited I am for you two!"

She ducks her head nervously, cheeks flushing. "Except, you probably do, because you two are the ones getting married, and I've never even been in a relationship before, so, I can only imagine how happy you are - sorry, I'm rambling."

"I'm glad that you'll come," Sebastian says, taking her hands in his, face incredibly soft. "It means a lot to me, and I know that it will mean a lot to Ciel, but would you mind keeping it a secret from him for now? He doesn't know that I'm here. I wanted to surprise him."

Sullivan nods, face still warm with a rosy blush. "Of course, sir, I'm very grateful that you're even inviting me. Thank you."

He smiles, stands up. "Thank  _you,_ for agreeing. It will be a wedding for the ages."

-

"It's a bit late for a picnic, don't you think?" Ciel watches from where he sits on the island as Sebastian packs some food into a small, wicker basket. He's already dressed for bed, one of Sebastian's t-shirts, a pair of boxers, and his glasses, thick framed and smudged lenses. "It's nearly midnight."

Sebastian sighs heavily, resting his palms on the edge of the counter, elbows straight. "Please, Ciel, just... indulge me, for once, please?"

"For once?" Ciel scoffs, leaping from the island to march over to Sebastian, poking him in the chest, head held defiantly high. "I've been  _indulging_ you since before we were even dating, so I don't want to hear it! I'm assuming that you have something planned, so I'll go along with you, but I never want you to forget that I love you." He pulls Sebastian down by the neck of his shirt and kisses him softly, smiling. "I do love you. Immensely."

"I love you, too, sweetheart. Now!" He straightens up, grabbing Ciel by the hand. "We're wasting moonlight." He pulls Ciel out the door and down the stairs, listening to his boy protest the whole time,  _I don't even have pants or shoes on! I'll catch my death, it's still kind of cold outside!_ He does not let go of Ciel's hand until they are in the back grounds of the apartment complex, sitting on a little gingham blanket in the soft, dew damp grass, clinking glasses of champagne together and eating scones covered in homemade blackberry jam.

"You're such a funny man," Ciel giggles, soft and nearly tipsy, thighs coated in goosebumps, like downy velvet. "You're so spontaneous, even at your age."

The ring box is practically burning a hole in Sebastian's pocket, and he laughs quietly, brows raised. "My age?" he parrots, trying his best to not think about plunging his fingers, ice cold with nerves, into the spots behind Ciel's knees, a safe haven, warm and pure. "Well, that just means that I can keep you on your toes, right?"

Ciel licks jam from his fingers, swaying like a dandelion in the soft, barely spring breeze. "You certainly can," he agrees, leaning forward for a gentle, sticky kiss.

The moon hangs high over them and Sebastian can practically hear the ring in his pocket, chanting, whispering,  _do it, do it, do it, doitdoitdoitdoit._ He swallows hard. "Speaking of keeping you on your toes, I have something to ask you. Something... important, that I should've done a better job of asking before."

Ciel's eyes, wide and glassy, watch as Sebastian stands, retrieves the velvet box from his pocket, and gets down on one knee. The ring glints in the moonlight, and Ciel's mouth opens softly when he sees the golden band, plain and simple, right there in front of him. "Will you marry me, Ciel? I'll do whatever I can to make you the happiest person in the entire world. I just want to be by your side for as long as I can, forever, if you'll have me."

"You... you bastard," Ciel laughs, tears rolling down his cheeks, shoulders trembling as he slides over to Sebastian, knocking over one of the half-full glasses of champagne into the grass, cupping Sebastian's face in his hands. "I will, yes! I'll marry you!" He flings his arms around Sebastian's neck and they fall to the blanket, chest to chest, the box laying off to the side when Sebastian holds onto Ciel's waist. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you," Sebastian murmurs, combing his fingers through Ciel's hair, responding to his soft, gentle kisses with as much fervor as he can muster, trying to keep it in his pants, even though he can feel the soft skin of Ciel's inner thighs. "I've never loved anyone like I love you. You've made me so happy. I just want to be with you, together, forever."

Ciel's glasses are askew and there is jam on the corner of his mouth, but in this moment, he has never been more beautiful. Wet cheeks glistening in the light from the moon, mouth red with kisses, cheeks flushed with champagne, Sebastian loves him. He will love him forever, has probably loved him for millennia, since before the stars were born, burst into beings of light, now silent watchers overhead, quiet, observing, as Sebastian slides the band onto Ciel's finger.

It fits perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i know that this is short but i really wanted to get it out ! i hope you all still like it.


	17. swimming pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the night before the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u all so much for the lovely comments on the last chapter !!! it really warms my heart guys. i bought a kuroshitsuji tapestry the other day and ciel n seb are right over my bed where they belong, keeping me safe while i sleep.
> 
> hope youre all well.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

Alois sits in the center of Sebastian and Ciel's bed, eyes wide, hands crushed against his chest in mock-prayer. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me," he says of the ring on Ciel's left hand. "I can't believe this. I absolutely cannot fucking believe this. You're getting hitched before me? I always assumed that I'd be married to some billionaire pornstar by now."

"I can't believe it either," Ciel murmurs, worrying at the ring with his right hand, twisting it around his finger, back and forth. Nearly two months has passed since the real proposal, and after they'd picked a date, Ciel knew that it was really happening, that he could really tell people about his fucking wedding. "I've always wanted to have a summer wedding. June tenth. I can't believe it." 

He presses his palms into his closed eyes and flops backwards onto the bed, ankles hanging over the side. "We've already picked out suits and flowers for it. Nina found a caterer and Sebastian apparently found both a ring bearer and a flower girl." He groans lowly, pushing his bangs away from his forehead, hands at his temples. "You wanna be my best man? Or maid of honor? Both?"

"Uh, absolutely! I thought you'd never fuckin' ask me! Who's going to give you away?"

Ciel sits back up, forcing his body to stay steady against the wave of dizziness that swirls in his ears. "Aunt An. She's the closest thing that I have to a parent, and she's taking a week off work to come down for the wedding. She cried on the phone for nearly an hour and a half, and then when I asked if she would give me away, she cried for another hour." He shakes his head, a soft smile on his face. "I'm excited for her to meet Sebastian. I feel like they should get along well."

Alois rolls his eyes, scoffs loudly. "She's gonna try to grab his ass or something; make sure she stays away from the bar. Wait, there is going to be a bar, right?"

"Yes, there will be a bar."

"Oh, thank God. I don't think I'll be able to sit through a wedding without  _at least_ three shots of vodka."

Ciel reaches over, digs his thumb and index finger into Alois' cheeks. "If you show up shitfaced at my wedding, I will actually kill you. I know that we've been friends forever, but there are some things that just can't be forgiven - and I'm the only one that's going to make a scene, with the exception of Aunt An, because, well, she always makes a scene." He giggles softly, letting go of Alois' face. "Remember my sixteenth birthday when we went to that restaurant-"

"And that server made you cry?! I thought that An was going to shit a brick, right then and there! I've never seen her so mad." He wheezes out a laugh, wiping away pretend tears. "Or that time in primary school when that fuckin' kid - God, what was his name? - anyway, he made a huge fit about you missing parents' day, so she hauled ass down there and made that big fuss?"

Covering his eyes, Ciel leans forward so that his forehead touches his knees. "Oh my God, I forgot all about that! I was so embarrassed, but he was nice to me all throughout primary school. I think he was afraid of her. Hell, sometimes I'm still afraid of her." He lays back down on the bed and Alois slips into place beside him, curling his fingers through Ciel's. "I'm so scared," Ciel whispers, "I've never done anything like this. I never even thought about marrying Lawrence."

Alois looks over at Ciel, face soft, a chunk of hair falling at the corner of his mouth. "Sebastian really is the one, huh?" he asks, voice incredibly soft as Ciel nods. "When you were with Lawrence, you two always just seemed to be going through the motions - neither of you seemed very happy, even though I think you two were in love. But being in love and staying in love are two very different things." He squeezes Ciel's hand. "I'll always be here for you, you know that right? And, if Sebastian ever makes you cry, I'll rip his windpipe out with my hands."

"I'm lucky to be friends with you," Ciel murmurs, squeezing Alois' hand back. "Thank you for being with me, through everything, even when I was a terrible friend."

"You were pretty shitty," Alois agrees, a grin on his face, "but, I've had my fair share of shit-friend moments too, so I guess that just makes us even."

Ciel's teeth come together and he has to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat. "I wish my mum could come," he whispers, tears welling in his eyes, "and I wish my dad could, too. I want them to meet Sebastian, and I want them to see what I love about him." He sits up, shoulders trembling with muffled sobs. "I wish they were here."

"Seems like this is more in your jurisdiction than it is mine," Alois says, voice tilted away from Ciel, and he looks up to see Sebastian standing in the doorway of their bedroom, his brows drawn, hands clenched nervously at his sides. "I'll see you in a few weeks," Alois murmurs, kissing Ciel on the top of his head before he slips past Sebastian and disappears, leaving them alone. 

Sebastian is silent as he crosses the room and sinks into bed beside Ciel, holding him as he cries. He smooths Ciel's hair down, humming the tune of a long-forgotten song softly in his throat, swaying gently from side to side, hands ice cold at the nape of Ciel's neck. "They'd be so proud of you," he murmurs, lips at the crown of Ciel's head, heart breaking at the ragged cries that come from his boy. "I'm proud of you. You're so caring and empathetic, my sweet, sensitive baby. They'd be so proud to see how far you've come, how comfortable you've become with yourself." He pulls back slightly, wiping tears from Ciel's cheeks. "I love you."

To anyone else, it would sound like Sebastian is trying to patch up Ciel's wounds with  _I love you,_ like that fixes everything, but that's not what he's doing. He really does love Ciel, and he wants to get married, and he wishes that both his and Ciel's parents could be there, but since it's not possible, Sebastian wants to put Ciel's mind at ease. 

"We'll be together, surrounded by friends and people that we love, and it will be a beautiful experience, okay?" He pushes a strand of hair behind Ciel's ear. "Your parents will be watching, and they wouldn't want you to cry. I love you very much, and so do they, and we just want what's best for you." Sebastian tilts Ciel's head upwards, kisses his nose, his Cupid's bow, his mouth. "I can't believe that we're getting married. I can't believe that we're going to be each other's, forever."

Ciel sniffles, letting out a soft laugh. "I think I was always yours, ever since we met." His mouth quivers and he looks down at the ring. "I have to tell you... I am scared. I'm so afraid of the future, and what will happen between us, because there are so many unknowns that will happen in our lives, and there's no way to control it, or anything." His eyes swim with tears again. "Aren't you afraid, too?"

"Scared shitless," Sebastian responds quietly, brushing his thumb over Ciel's knuckles, over his wedding band. "But I believe, I  _know,_ that as long as you're at my side, we can do anything. We'll get over anything. Look at how far we've come, together, as our own people. I mean, my work has been... published, in magazines, we've really a made a name for ourselves with these shoots, and you! You have blossomed, so much, and you've transformed from this scared, meek boy that couldn't even look me in the eyes to this... sexually exploratory angel, that wants to help people, and loves learning, and being around others, and it's fucking amazing to me to see how much you have changed in the span of a year."

His eyes are soft, searching. "If you're scared, you can always come talk to me. I will always be here for you, no matter what, Ciel. I will cherish you until the end, and then, even after that." He smiles, crows feet spreading out around his eyes.

Ciel loves him. He loves, loves, loves him. "My mother would love you," he murmurs, "and my aunt is going to love you, and I have to warn you, beforehand, that she will probably try to grope you, and there is a fifty-fifty chance that she will either show up drunk or get drunk during the wedding, so, I apologize for her in advance, and I hope that you won't think any less of me after you meet her."

"I already love her," Sebastian murmurs, pulling Ciel down into bed with him. "I can't wait to meet her. I can't wait to get married to you." He kisses Ciel, fervently, full of passion. "I can't wait to wake up next to you as your husband."

Licking his lips, Ciel sits up, straddling Sebastian. "Remember the first time that we fucked?" Heat draws into his cheeks when Sebastian nods, hands at Ciel's hips. "Remember what you said, about rose petals and champagne? I want... I want that before our wedding. I want to fuck in a hotel room like it's the first time, and I want rose petals and champagne and bad Chinese takeaway that might make us sick at the alter, but it will be a great story to tell our kids someday-"

"Kids?"

Sebastian's voice is soft. He sits up, hands reaching up to Ciel's cheeks. "You mean it? You want kids? You wanna have kids with me?"

"Of course, I want to have kids with you!" Ciel laughs, like it's ridiculous he's even asking, as if that wasn't always the plan. "I want kids, and I want a house in the suburbs, and I want a stupid little picket fence, and I want a dog - or a cat, or whatever, but most of all, I just want to be with you." 

Once again, Sebastian grins, pulling Ciel against his chest. "God, I fucking love you. I... I love you." He kisses Ciel, the sweet slide of tongue filling his mouth. "My boy. My baby. June tenth," he whispers in between kisses, "two and a half weeks."

"Two and a half weeks," Ciel repeats, feeling more safe and full of love than he ever has before.

-

Two weeks and two days passes faster than Ciel realizes. He wakes up at six-forty-five in the morning, feeling as though he's never slept before. Sebastian is still asleep beside him, one arm tucked around Ciel's middle, the other crushed beneath his own body weight as he lays on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow. 

Ciel is filled with a fluttery, intense kind of feeling, like he used to get before picture day or exams when he was still in school, like he got the first time that he modeled for Sebastian. His stomach is currently competing for gold in gymnastics for the Olympics, and if he thinks too hard about the coming day, he probably will barf everywhere, all in their bed, and Sebastian will call off the wedding and Ciel will just die, alone and unmarried, right then and there.

He slides out of bed quietly, kisses Sebastian on his temple, and slips silently into the shower, edging the knob over to the coldest setting that he can handle, tilting his head back as he shampoos his hair, eyes shut, muscles simultaneously tensing and unwinding, shoulders relaxing. He is nearly done with his shower when he hears Sebastian yawn loudly, getting out of bed, the springs creaking beneath his movement.

Ciel shuts the water off and roughly dries his body off, stepping back out into the bedroom, reaching for the lotion as he watches Sebastian get dressed.

"You're up early," Sebastian says as he steps into a pair of jeans, dark eyes lingering on Ciel, roaming up his body. "Are you all right?"

Working some softly scented lotion into his elbows, Ciel swallows hard, watching as Sebastian finishes getting dressed. "A little nervous," he says quietly, "couldn't sleep anymore." He pads across the room to Sebastian, kissing him gently before he pulls on a pair of boxers and one of his old university pullovers. "Are you going to work today?" His voice is soft, like if he speaks too loudly, he will disrupt this quiet thing that they have going on, peaceful, calm.

"Just for a little while," Sebastian says, carding his fingers through Ciel's wet hair, palm resting against his boy's cheek. "One of the producers of Good Things books is coming to speak with me; she wants to put together a collection of my work, so we'll go over some shoots, talk about layout design, fonts, stuff like that. You're more than welcome to come along, if you'd like."

Ciel shakes his head softly, looking up at Sebastian. "I'm all right. I still have a few people to talk about tomorrow with. Do you want me to make plans at a hotel for tonight?"

Sebastian smiles, leaning down to kiss Ciel again. "I'll handle it. I just want you to relax, try to get some more sleep. You'll need it."

Warmth floods Ciel's cheeks as he follows Sebastian to the front door, kisses him goodbye, says he'll see him later. He has to make a lasting impression. Tonight is his last as an unmarried person, lustful, promiscuous, and he wants to show Sebastian what he's really made of, that he can be sexual too.

-

"You've definitely come to the right person," Nina says, cracking her knuckles loudly. She stretches her arms up over her head, bends at the waist so that her fingertips brush the floor, and tilts her head from side to side before sitting down on the couch beside Ciel, who has stripped down to only his boxers, a pillow in his lap, fingers tight at its edge. "Have you ever waxed before?" she asks, earning a wide eyed stare from Ciel, which makes her giggle. "Don't worry about it, love. I may not look like it, but I know what I'm doing. I've been giving Grell Brazilians for  _years._ "

His nose wrinkles in slight disgust as Nina mixes the wax together with a craft stick. "There are some things that I don't need to know," he murmurs, bracing himself as she smooths a strip of transparent purple wax up his calf, starting at the ankle and ending at the knee. "Can I have a countdown?"

Nina smirks, breathing out a little laugh before she yanks the wax up his leg. "Nope," she says as he yelps, fingers curling into the soft plush of the pillow while she presses her own cool ones against the burning red of his leg. "You're such a baby. I don't think that Sebastian seriously ties you up."

"We aren't in to fucking knife or fire play, Nina," Ciel hisses, teeth clenched as she smears another strip of wax down his leg, next to the one she had just done. "He doesn't want to hurt me - he just wants to see how far he can push me, to see how far I'm willing to go for sex."

Lifting her brows, Nina silently continues her work, biting back a giggle every time that Ciel grimaces or nearly jerks out of her grip, his cheeks blood red with restraint. "He really does love you, you know? I've known him for a long time, and when I met him, it's like he was broken. Doll left such a hole in him; he didn't go out, he either slept too much or stayed awake for days, he didn't eat, he smoked at least a pack of cigarettes a day." She smooths her fingers over Ciel's right leg, checking for any stray hairs. "But... you. You filled that hole. I think you overflowed it, if I'm being honest."

Ciel looks at her, eyes wide.

"It's like he was blooming, whenever you were around. Grell told me things about the two of you, things he said, before you two were together, things that he worried about, things that he dreamed of doing." She works quietly on Ciel's left leg, methodically, calmly. "I think... that maybe he fell in love with you the moment that he walked into the bar. I may have been drunk, but I know Sebastian like the back of my hand; when you got out of your seat and marched over to him, I'm surprised he didn't pop a boner right then and there."

"I love him, too," Ciel murmurs, fingers still tight around the pillow. "The boy that I was dating before Sebastian, he was so... sweet, and kind, but, we weren't really in love. We were just kids - hell, I'm still just a kid. I couldn't take care of myself before I met Sebastian. He's helped me change and grow so much, and I am forever grateful to him. I am blessed to have in my life, and I cannot believe that we're getting married tomorrow."

Nina lifts her brows silently, not looking at Ciel. "Is there going to be some... pre-marriage excitement?" she asks, bringing a heavy blush up Ciel's chest, where it bleeds into his neck and cheeks. "He'll like the fact that you're smooth. I can let you borrow some lingerie, if you'd like."

The blush creeps into Ciel's ears. "Really?"

"You're much smaller than I am. How about I take you shopping?"

-

Ciel does not know how they ended up in this strange land, but they are smack dab in the middle of it, and if he blushes any harder, he'll burst into flames. 

"Don't be so shy," Nina giggles, pushing Ciel further into the adult shop, her hand at the small of his back. "Grell used to work here, before we met Sebastian. I think her old boss still works here," she murmurs, tugging Ciel along with her, as if she belongs there, as if she owns the place. "Taker!" she calls loudly, pausing to listen until an unnerving laugh echoes around the room, goosebumps prickling up Ciel's arms.

He steps backwards as a man slips into the room, his hair long and stringy, clothes loose and filthy. He's barefoot, and Ciel has never been more terrified in his entire life. This man looks like he just crept out of the woods after living there for fifteen years, hiding from the police for a murder he committed as a teenager, and now has come back into the public eye. "How little," he croaks, "I wonder what you would look like in a casket."

"Wrong job, Taker," Nina murmurs, slapping Ciel hard in the middle of his back, earning a loud cry from him. "Taker here actually owns a casket shop. He worked as a mortician in his twenties, but now he owns this place as well. Interesting hobbies, right?"

Ciel swallows. He feels like there is a fist in his throat, fingers wrapped around his windpipe. He has seen Sebastian's box of tricks and treats, the little presents that he brings home for him, but  _this._ This is on a new level altogether, and if he weren't so fucking turned on by the metallic glint of collars and chains and the plush plastic dildos that line the wall, he would probably leave, would throw up from nervousness.

"You may look around," the man, who Nina has only referred to as  _Taker,_ says, startling Ciel with his sudden proximity, thin fingers curled around Ciel's shoulders. "But take caution; do not let your eyes be bigger than your stomach."

He releases Ciel, who moves away as quickly as he can, hands pressed to his chest, clutching his fucking pearls as he passes slowly by the displays of latex costumes, ball and bit gags, scary-looking metal objects with sharp points and rounded edges, ropes, collars, blindfolds, full-face masks, body-safe candles, a vast array of lubricants and edible underwear, until he comes to a halt in front of a glass display that houses an old-fashioned paddle, the handle well-worn, heart shaped holes cut out into the body.

His teeth come together and Ciel steps away.

He is afraid. This place is uncharted waters; he knows nothing of this stuff. It makes his fucking skin crawl and he feels disgusting because he wants to use all of it, wants to shut his eyes and point at something, take it home, show Sebastian his spoils. 

"Need help?"

The sound of Nina's voice in his ear startles a scream from Ciel like he is an eighty-year-old woman who is beginning to forget her family members and her son has come over to visit it but she was not expecting him, nor can remember his face, so she screams and cracks him over the head with a frying pan - which Ciel would do if he had one, but instead, he jumps like he has been stabbed, wheeling around to face her.

"Jesus Christ!" he shouts, hands clenched into fists. "Don't just sneak up on me like that-" He is about to finish yelling at her, when his eyes focus on something behind her head, face softening, his heartbeat picking up to thunder in his chest.

She turns around, a smile taking over her face. "You like that?" she asks of the uniform standing atop one of the shelves, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

He nods, palms going slick as he thinks about showing up to the hotel in the outfit, hidden under a coat much too warm for June, Sebastian's fingers unbuttoning the skimpy long-sleeved shirt, his cock thrusting underneath the short skirt, eventually long forgotten when they are drunk and cum-covered.

"He'd like it," Nina murmurs, hands behind her back, rocking back and forth on her heels. "I think it would surprise him; he'd really give it to you."

Ciel's entire body goes warm and he swallows again, wiping his hands against the thighs of his jeans. "I know that he will." His mouth is as dry as cotton as he walks up to Taker, pointing at the schoolgirl outfit. "I want that one."

-

Beneath the coat, he is already sweating, hands trembling as he walks up to the receptionist, cheeks flushed red. Nina had dropped him off when Sebastian called a little after ten at night, winked at him and wished him the best of luck.

"I have a reservation under the name Michaelis," Ciel murmurs, hands fiddling with the belt of his coat. He must look like a flasher, ready to spring out from beneath his clothes, but the woman behind the desk has probably scene weirder things, does not bat an eyelash, probably thinks that he is a stripper or something when she tells him the room number.

The elevator is empty on his way to the penthouse suite, and he only passes by one person in the hallway, a tall, dark-haired man that looks vaguely like Sebastian, with emerald eyes and slicked back black hair. He does not like the way that the man looks at him, and Ciel scurries down the hallway, heart in his throat when he knocks on the door, stepping backwards when he hears it unlock, takes a deep breath in when he sees Sebastian, standing only in a pair of black briefs, holding an unopened bottle of champagne and nothing else.

"I wanted to surprise you," Ciel says as he fumbles with the coat's belt, pulling it open to reveal the uniform beneath, watching as Sebastian's eyes widen, pink raising into his cheeks. "Nina helped me pick it out."

"What are you wearing underneath it?" he asks quietly, throat working through a swallow.

Ciel's voice is quiet. "Find out."

The door slams behind him heavily as Sebastian scoops Ciel up, carrying him over to the bed so quickly that he nearly misses the thousands of rose petals dumped all over the floor, the fake candles illuminating the room, bathing them both in a warm yellow light. The bottle of champagne is set on the bedside table, forgotten as Sebastian slides his hot fingers beneath the hem of Ciel's skirt, fingertips rough as he finds the lace of Ciel's underwear, a pretty red scrap of fabric that, on any other given day, would be embarrassing, but the soft sign that it gets out of Sebastian is entirely worth it.

"My baby," he breathes, "all dressed up for me, so sexy." He finds Ciel's cock and touches him gently, kissing at his neck, nose nuzzling the underside of his jaw as he jerks Ciel off, slow, tantalizingly slow.

Ciel can already feel how hard Sebastian is, his cock pressed against Ciel's thigh, straining through his boxers, and Ciel wants so badly to get him off, but with Sebastian's hand between his thighs and his toes curling against an orgasm that stains his outfit, he is useless.

He is remade in the mouthfuls of champagne that Sebastian shares with him, hands tight on his ass, the drink spilling down their chests, Ciel's clothes long forgotten, Sebastian's cock buried deep within him. 

"More," Ciel says, breathlessly, bouncing as hard as he can, his forehead pressed against Sebastian's, his cock slick against Sebastian's stomach.

"Open your mouth," Sebastian murmurs, pouring a small waterfall of liquid into Ciel's mouth - it spills past the corners of his lips, and Sebastian drags the flat of his tongue over it, cleaning his boy up, listening to the sweet symphony of sounds that Ciel makes: from soft keening whines to full-blown pornographic moans, his legs hooked over Sebastian's shoulders, toes pointed down.

"I love you," he pants, fingers finding purchase in Sebastian's hair, heat building in his belly, the feeling of an orgasm rising, but the kind of orgasm that he has never felt before, one that permeates his femurs, kissing Sebastian as gently as he can, even when they are fucking like a freight train, the headboard of the bed hitting against the wall with a pace that his heart has synced up to, mouth open, teeth gleaming in the faux-candle light. "I love you."

Sebastian swallows, his hips going arrhythmic, pace stumbling as he kisses Ciel back. "I won't last," he murmurs, voice barely there, a prayer meant only for Ciel's ears, "I love you, too. I love you - fuck - so much."

Ciel's legs slip off of Sebastian's shoulders, wrap around his waist. His heels dig into his man's hips, and he has never been fucked like this before, not by Sebastian or Lawrence or any of the boys he fooled around with in secondary school. This is a religious experience; he was right this whole time. Fucking Sebastian is salvation, his soul has been saved, his mother, who may also be God, is watching, bathed in a holy light, watching as her son is reborn when Sebastian cums, hard, fast, long,  _wet,_ but does not stop rocking, body slowing, kissing Ciel as he cums, cock taught against Sebastian's tummy.

"You're so fucking amazing," Sebastian murmurs, pushing sweat dampened hair off of Ciel's forehead, kissing him softly before he sits up, reaches over for a washcloth that sits on the bedside table, folded neatly beside the complimentary Bible that comes in all hotel rooms. "My sin, my soul," he says, cleaning in between Ciel's legs, softly, gently, and this is nothing at all like the first that they fucked. There are no rules, Sebastian's  _I'm always in charge_ notion long forgotten, because that is not how their relationship works anymore, they are a single entity, a shared being, both of their opinions and needs and wants just as important as anything else.

"I can't believe we're getting married tomorrow," Ciel says softly, tracing small circles in Sebastian's chest hair. "In December, I would never have imagined myself in this situation, let alone with you."

Sebastian's brows raise. "What is that supposed to mean, with me?"

"You know," Ciel explains, "you were so stubborn and headstrong and did your best to ignore me and disregard my feelings, but... we've ended up in a place like this, and we've created so many beautiful things and you are so important in my life, and I honestly can't imagine being without you."

"I love you," Sebastian says, "most ardently."

It's true. They are in love, naked, post-orgasm, surrounded by real flower petals and fake candles, sticky with expensive champagne and cum. Ciel has never known what love feels like before, but one day, he will be able to tell their children,  _this_ is what it feels like: comfort, peace, fulfillment, and when you know, you'll know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL HAVE NO IDEA HOW FUN THIS CHAP WAS FOR ME TO WRITE. i basically smiled/cried the whole time i was writing.


	18. turning page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH i cant believe we're here!!!! i never in a million years wouldve thought this fic wouldve gone in this direction. usually im an angsty lil fucker where everything goes wrong but in this one... everything is right.
> 
> hope youre all well.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> much love xoxo

When Angelina Dalles steps into their sitting room, Ciel's eyes tear up on a reflex, the sunlight filtering in behind her as she shuts the front door, a small overnight bag clutched in her hand. It hits the ground with a heavy thud -  _what does she have in there? Bricks? -_ and An barrels across the room, flinging her soft arms around Ciel's waist, sweeping him clean off the ground as she spins him in a circle, sobbing at the top of her lungs. 

"Mon petit amour!" she wails, tears wetting the shoulder of Ciel's t-shirt. It's a little after nine in the morning, the sun still bright and high in the sky. Nina had picked Ciel up from the hotel at eight, ushering Sebastian into his clothes and car, spouting some bullshit about it's bad luck to see the groom before the wedding. "You look so much like your mother, it breaks my heart." She cups his face in her cool, rough hands, bending to be eye-level with him, her brows drawn, eyes searching. "Do you really love this man? Do you really want to do this?"

Ciel swallows, tongue a thick wad in his mouth. "Yes," he whispers, tears once again beading at his lower lash line, threatening to spill down his cheeks. "I love Sebastian with all my heart, with everything that I am."

She pats him on the cheek and stands, hands on her hips. "All right, let me see the boy. I have to assess the goods before I hand my favorite nephew over to some scamp."

"I'm your only nephew," Ciel reminds her as An begins to walk around the sitting room, hands clasped behind her back while she inspects the photos that sit on the mantle and hang on the wall. "That's him when he graduated from secondary school," Ciel says, pointing at one of his favorite pictures of Sebastian: barely nineteen, face grown lean above a strong jaw, ears and nose suddenly seeming to fit much better on his face then they had as a toddler, his hair much too short, forehead exposed beneath the graduation cap's brim, squinting against the sunlight. 

"He's very handsome," she notes, fingers brushing over a framed picture of Sebastian and Ciel at an expo for his photography, Ciel smiling brightly, clinging to Sebastian, who carries his smile in his eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

After Ciel had moved in, he'd rummaged through the boxes that Sebastian kept in the spare closet, many of them pictures from his childhood: happy and moon-faced, hair brushing almost at his shoulders, sometimes with his parents - thinking back on it, he looks so much like his father that Ciel could barely tell the two of them apart, stroking his fingers over the man's face, asking  _how old were you here, whose baby is that?_ only to be surprised when Sebastian smiled, pulled the frame from his grip.

 _That's my father,_ he had murmured,  _and that baby is me._

"You two look happy together," An says, "so much like your mother and father when they first met."

"I love him," Ciel whispers, a lump raising in his throat.

He could go on for hours and hours about it, but before he gets a chance, Nina races down the stairs, shirt-sleeves pushed up to her elbows, hands at her hips. "All right, kiddo! Time to get in the tub. It's ass-full of lavender Epsom salt and vanilla body wash and a whole bunch of other stuff - I'm gonna scrub ya until you're nice and shiny smooth, okay?" She looks at An, a smile on her face. "Well, hello. Who is this? I'm Nina, nice to meet you."

"Angelina," An says, taking Nina's outstretched hand, "Ciel's aunt. I'll be giving him away today."

"You're kidding me! I've never met any of Ciel's family before." She jerks her thumb in the direction of the stairs, still smiling. "Wanna help me get him all good and cleaned up before we get him all dressed up?"

Ciel grimaces, a flush spreading over his cheeks. "I don't want you to see me naked, aunt An."

Angelina pats him on the back, pushing him towards the bedroom with the help of Nina's hand around his wrist. "Your mother and I used to give you baths all the time when you were still a baby - it's nothing that I haven't seen before. Nina, do you know Sebastian well?"

"Oh, yeah," Nina exclaims, yanking Ciel's shirt up over his head when they make it into the bathroom. He protests weakly when his pajama bottoms puddle at his feet, but steps out of them all the same, walking as quickly as he can towards the bath, sinking neck deep in the strongly scented, foamy water. "I've known Sebastian for nearly twenty years," she says, scooping some water up into a cup, warning Ciel to close his eyes seconds before she dumps it over his head. 

"Would you mind telling me a little bit about him? I've been in France since Ciel went to university, so I was very surprised to get the announcement about the wedding, especially considering the fact that I was unaware that Ciel was even dating anyone." She tugs at his ear as Nina works softly scented shampoo into his head, her nails massaging his scalp. "He never answers my calls, and he'd rather die then let me fly down for his birthday."

Ciel scoffs, nearly shouting when Nina spills more water over top of his head, like he is a baby taking a bath in the sink. "You ruined my birthdays all the time when I was a teenager," he complains, not even resisting when An lifts his arm out of the water, violently scrubbing at his skin with a pink, textured washcloth. "I'm practically traumatized."

"Don't be dramatic, dear," An chastises, reaching over to scrub up his neck, down onto his chest. "In that respect, you're so much like your father it shocks me. I remember when Rachel and Vincent found out that they were going to have you - he hardly let her do anything on her own." She smiles, letting the washcloth fall into the water, forgotten, her fingers soapy. "She went to the shop once by herself, about eight months pregnant, and he ran all the way from work to where she was when she called him to ask if he needed anything."

"He sounds like Sebastian," Nina murmurs, smoothing coconut scented conditioner into Ciel's hair. "He's such a worrywart, but he'd never let anyone know if they aren't close enough."

Ciel's brows crease and he leans forward, allowing Nina to scrub at his back. "He gave me rent money when I had only known him for... three days. He gave me rides home and to the community centre, and he told me about his parents, and he let me talk about mine... He was always so kind to me. Even when we met - I could tell that he was trying to be standoffish, trying to show me who the boss really was, but, he gave me a job, without even knowing me." 

Tears drip down his cheeks, falling into the bath water. 

"Sweetheart," Nina coos, "don't cry."

His aunt reaches forward, smooths her slick hand over his damp cheeks. "You really are just like your mother. And your father. They'd be so proud of you, so happy to see you, and the man that you've become."

He knows that she means well, but this just makes Ciel cry harder. He sobs, wailing dramatically as they continue his bath, smiling and sharing stories about Ciel and Sebastian respectively, making one another giggle as Ciel cries himself out, slipping sleepily into the water of his bath, eyes heavy, half-lidded, thinking of Sebastian waiting for him, standing at the alter.

-

"Ho-lee shit," Grell breathes when Sebastian comes down the stairs of her home, all dressed up in his neat black tuxedo, a sprig of sweetclover tucked neatly into his button hole. "You clean up so well, I hardly recognized you."

Rolling his eyes, Sebastian flops down onto the couch beside her, does his best to not run his fingers through his hair. He'd been able to sit through Grell's ice-cold shower and rough blowout of his hair, but he'd drawn the line at the hair gel or mousse or whatever the fuck she had wanted to smear on his head. "It's all thanks to you," he says, mostly sarcastic, but the way that she smiles really warms his heart. "I can't believe that this is fucking happening." 

He looks down at his hand, where his ring is missing. Ciel had not wanted to buy new rings - the one that he had picked out for Sebastian and the one that Sebastian had picked out for him would be the only ones they were going to wear and that was that, Ciel had decided. So, Sebastian had coaxed Ciel into letting him hold onto the rings until they could be passed over to the ring bearer - or bearers, in this case, because they were not going to be separated.

"I can't believe that I'm here to see it," Grell murmurs, reaching over to squeeze his fingers. "I'm so happy for you, Bastian, I really am." She lets him go, claps her hands together. "I have something for you - I know that you and Ciel are both grooms, but I thought it would be nice to stick with that tradition, you know, something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue, or whatever." She stands, moves over towards the bookshelf, where she rustles around in a cabinet and returns shortly with something cupped in her hands that Sebastian cannot see.

"If that's a bug or something, I'm going to punch you in the fucking teeth."

Grell exhales loudly. "Just close your eyes, you fucker. I swear, Ciel won't stay with you very long if you're always this insufferable." 

Against his better judgement, Sebastian closes his eyes, listening to her bend down slightly, feeling her hands at his throat, tucking, tying something at his collar. When she steps away, he opens his eyes on instinct, letting them flit up to her.

Grell is empty handed, her eyes wet with tears. "I knew it would look good," she murmurs, and Sebastian reaches up towards his throat. Holding his collar closed is a thin strip of blue velvet, pale with age and beginning to unravel at the edges slightly. "I hope you don't mind; I found it in one of your boxes when you moved to London, kept it because... I don't know, I didn't think that you should've kept it. But... I think it's a good time to give it back, and it'll be good for you to make a fresh start."

Sebastian takes a shuddering breath in, fingers still pressed against the ribbon that he had nicked from Doll years ago, stolen in a playful tussle, held high up over his head, ripped from a shirt or a sweater or something - Sebastian really can't remember, but his hand curls into a fist over it, jaw pulsing. "Borrowed from Doll, from me, from you... and blue," he says softly, looking up, willing himself not to cry. He will not cry over a dead boy on the day of his wedding, but if he shuts his eyes, Sebastian can see Doll, smiling, aglow with a light that had always emanated from within him, finally being able to shine through with the finality of moving on.

"I can't believe you're the one that held onto it for all this time," Sebastian murmurs, "I thought I left it at my old flat. I went there every day for nearly two months to see if I could find it anywhere - and now... it just seems like such a small thing, a silly thing to hold onto." He plays with the end of the ribbon absently and then allows his hand to move towards the flower above his heart. "I can't believe that this happening," he repeats, unable to fight back the smile that takes over his face. "I can't believe I'm really getting married."

-

An gasps loudly, hand at her chest, as Ciel comes out of the bedroom, all dressed up in his sleek black tuxedo, trimmed with pale pink at the edges, a pink tie knotted firmly around his neck. "You look stunning," she praises, fingers steepled at their tips, resting just over her lips. "God, you look so much like your father."

"You keep saying that," he mutters under his breath, allowing An to fuss and preen at him, her fingers plucking at stray lint on his suit, combing his hair back behind his ear, her eyes soft.

"I have something for you," she says, incredibly quietly, so quietly that Ciel has to step forward an inch to hear her, his head ducked ever so slightly. "Your mother wore it on her wedding day, and it may seem a bit silly for a young man your age to wear it, but... I think it would make her happy." She reaches into the bag that lays at her feet and brings out a slender tiara-like object, golden and ornate, with small, hand-constructed flowers that curl all the way around it, holds it in her lap. "You don't have to wear it, but-"

"I'd love to," Ciel breathes, fingers reaching for it. He allows her to tangle it into his hair, like he is a nymph of the forest, flitting barefoot through the woods in a white, gauzy dress, and Sebastian is a slender, dark-eyed demigod who has set his sights on Ciel.

Ciel presses his lips together. "I wish she could've been here. Dad, too."

An smiles, curls her fingers behind his ears. "They are here," she murmurs, tapping gently at his chest, "they'll always be with you. Just like I will always be with you, even when you're much, much older than now. You'll always have Sebastian, and Alois, and everyone else that you have ever known and loved."

"Like Joker," Ciel says, even though An has no idea who he is talking about, even though Joker is not really dead, but some part of him is, the part that Ciel carries around with him is long dead, ruined, rusted in a fine, bone-chilling rain. He looks up at the clock on the wall, allows his eyes to wander over to the picture of Sebastian graduating. "I can't believe I'm really getting married."

-

Ciel could cry, he really could. The chapel is small, cozy, with big stained glass windows and rickety old pews, and Ciel loves it. He shuts his eyes as they walk through the door, grabs onto the ever present baby fat at his hips, pinches  _hard._ Nope, not a dream.

Real.

He hasn't been in this church before - hell, the last church he went to was for Joker's funeral - but he  _loves_ it. He does not have much time to ruminate on the architecture, however, because Grell rushes out of a room off to the side, snags him by the elbow. 

"We've been waiting for you!" she shouts, tugging him into a door opposite the one she came out of, letting it slam heavily behind her. "Is he ever on time?" she asks Alois, who is lounging lazily on a couch, all dressed up in his suit, arms behind his head.

"You're asking the wrong person, sweetheart - I'm also chronically late." He sits up, holds his arms outspread for Ciel, who all but runs over to him, falling backwards on the couch, face pressed into Alois' chest. "You look great," he murmurs, "and you didn't hear it from me, but so does your husband-to-be." 

 _Husband. Holy shit._ That word sparks some kind of fire in Ciel's chest and he has to sit up, a hand pressed against his heart. "I'm gonna barf," he says quietly, drawing a few panicked looks in his direction. "Metaphorically. Like, I feel like I'm gonna barf." It's half of a lie - he really could blow chunks right here and now, nervousness stirring up a storm of nausea in his tummy. "How much longer do I have to wait?"

Nina brushes a piece of stay lint from his shoulder. "People should be getting here at around noon, and the ceremony starts at one. We just need to make sure that you're ready, that Sebastian's ready, that everyone's here, that the rings are where they should be, and that you two have your vows ready."

Ciel's teeth clench together. This is suddenly so much more real than it had been this morning, when he woke up pressed against Sebastian's chest, cool skin against cool skin, sharing lazy, lingering kisses before Nina had burst in, screaming at the top of her lungs, throwing clothes at them to get dressed. It is suddenly so much more real than it had been in the bathtub, when he was listening to his aunt share stories of his parents wedding, told them about what kind of flowers his mothers carried, what the first song that they danced to was, if people threw rice or not.

His left hand touches absently at the crown tangled into his hair. It is heavy, a safe, solid reminder that this really happening, that he's actually about to get fucking married to Sebastian Michaelis.

"Can I see him?"

Grell lifts a brow, scoffing loudly as she helps Nina step into a knee-length, lavender dress. "Absolutely not. It's bad luck." She rolls her eyes and zips Nina's dress up before yanking her t-shirt up over her head.

"I'm not his bride," he says, voice nearly a hiss. He wants to see Sebastian, wants to run his fingers through his hair, wants to kiss the space beneath his bottom lip. "I just want to see him." Ciel's chin wobbles and his eyes catch Grell's. "Just for a moment. Please."

His voice is pathetically soft, almost a whine, but he's desperate. Since the engagement, hell, practically since they've met, Ciel has never spent more than a few hours away from Sebastian's side, and the three hours that separate them has already felt like an eternity - if he has to wait two more, Ciel will die of loneliness like a rabbit.

Grell sighs. "Don't look at me like that," she says, tugging her own dress on, readjusting her glasses before Nina zips it up, hands lingering at her waist lovingly. "Fine. I'll give you five minutes, but that's it. Once it's over, back to different rooms, you hear me? Come on." She is barefoot, leads Ciel through a door off to the side, past a gathering of flowers, which had been picked out by Sebastian - ranunculus, lavender heather, purple stock - and pushes into a large room with only two things in it: a grand piano, and Sebastian.

His fingers are elegant against the keys, eyes half shut, a light blue strip of what Ciel thinks is velvet tied around his collar. 

Tears well in Ciel's eyes. "I love you," he says, startling Sebastian's fingers away from the piano, turning towards him, dark eyes wide. He softens immediately, gets up from the piano bench, and all but scoops Ciel off of his feet, kissing him all over his face, his forehead, his temples, his nose, his eyelids, his Cupid's bow, his chin, the space in front of his ears.

"Look at you," Sebastian breathes quietly, setting Ciel down, hands cupping his face, bending down to his eye-level, head slightly tilted. "You're breathtaking. Ethereal."

Ciel's mouth is dry. There are so many things that he wants to say to Sebastian, wants to tell him so many things, but he can't pick one, so he just decides on the most present thing on his mind: "I love you. So much. I can't believe that this is happening."

"I love you, too. How did you convince Grell to let us see each other?"

"Almost cried. Real tears. I don't like being away from you." His fingers brush over the flower in Sebastian's buttonhole. "What is this?"

Sebastian smiles, straightens up. "Sweetclover. It's inspired by a poem that made me think of you."

Ciel's eyes flick over Sebastian's face, searching, trying to burn his image into his brain. "Tell me some of it."

"The big sexual reek of sweet clover," Sebastian murmurs, bending to press his lips against Ciel's softly, "grasses ripe with the harmony of mosquitoes, and you humming with lightning." His voice is soft. "My mouth remembers. I will never see you again. Juniper and lemon. Long ago music. Kiss me." 

Ciel knows that that is part of the poem, but it sounds so much like a command his knees nearly go weak, fingers curling into the lapels of Sebastian's tuxedo for support, head going light with the kisses that Sebastian showers him in. He wants to feel Sebastian's skin, wants to make love, not fuck, wants to slide against him, curl up against Sebastian's bones, and he has half a mind to do it, but Grell opens the door, clearing her throat loudly.

"Time's up," she says, and Ciel pulls away from Sebastian, cheeks red, eyes wet. "Back to the other room, kiddo."

Sebastian presses the pad of his thumb against Ciel's lips. "I'll see you soon. I love you."

"And I love you," Ciel whispers.

A promise.

-

One o'clock comes at a fucking snail's crawl. Ciel is practically bouncing off the walls listening to the people in the pews chatter aimlessly, and a few of the voices he can distinctly pick out: Aleister, some of the models, Lizzie, Bard and Mey-rin, the secretary from the centre, who, to Ciel's surprise, had turned out to be Bard's wife. There is one voice that Ciel thinks he knows, but he can't say for sure, and to guess who it belongs to would be ridiculous - they hadn't seen each other in years.

An's hand is sweaty around Ciel's. "Are you ready?" she asks, and Ciel's teeth come together, jaw pulsing.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he says as the organ begins to play, something soft and whimsical, not the traditional song that played at weddings when the bride walked down the aisle, but something that Sebastian picked out, something that Ciel has never heard before, but he will commit the song to memory, play it in his head in bed at night. He takes a deep breath through his nose and they walk out into the hallway, slowly, painfully slow, before they make it into the main room of the chapel.

It is not a big turnout, but Ciel is happy that way - no one to impress, just his and Sebastian's closest friends, a few plus ones, and - holy shit.  _Holy shit._

He sees Lawrence first, before he sees Sullivan in her chair and pretty purple dress, before he sees Phipps and Grey, before he even sees Sebastian. His heart does something mean in his chest, makes his left arm go numb, and for a split second, Ciel is worried that he is having a heart attack or a stroke or something, but when his eyes lock onto Sebastian, he forgets all about Lawrence, forgets about everyone in the room despite himself.

He does not feel An kiss him on the cheek when he makes it to stand beside Sebastian, their hands meeting softly.

"What have you done?" he asks softly as the officiant begins the wedding, asking everyone to sit, but the blood roaring in Ciel's ears is too loud for him to hear anything.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Sebastian murmurs back, eyes never once leaving Ciel's face. "I'm sorry I didn't ask first."

Tears prick at the back of Ciel's eyes, and he has to take a small breath in, look up towards the domed ceiling. "Thank you," he whispers, and they do not speak again until it is time to say their vows.

Phipps and Grey walk down the aisle together, arms linked at the elbows, each holding a small, lavender pillow with a ring in the center, golden and glinting.

Sebastian goes first, one hand holding Ciel's, the other tight around a scrap of paper. "Light of my life, fire of my loins," he begins, and Ciel is already crying, sniffling like a baby, "my sin, my soul. You have changed my life in so many ways, and I am forever thankful to have met you. You are filled with love and kindness, and you are so smart and sweet, and you always try your hardest no matter what. The night that we met, I never would've thought that we'd end up here, but I can't imagine a life without you."

His eyes flit over Ciel's wet face as he slides the ring onto Ciel's left ring finger, glistening in the rainbow-tinted sunshine that filters in through the stained glass windows. "I promise... to love you forever, and even after that, to make sure you're taken care of to the best of my ability, and to be always by your side. I love you, more than anything or anyone in the world, and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

Ciel has to drag his wrist across his eyes, sniffing loudly. "I never really believed in true love," he starts, and in the crowd, in his peripheral vision, Lawrence does not react, face smooth and boyish, just as Ciel remembers. "Until I met you. You let me into your home, and into your life, and you didn't even know me. You gave me a job, and you helped me to reform my friendships, and you always made me smile, even when I was upset." He licks at his bottom lip, glancing to the floor and then up to Sebastian. "We've grown together, and we've overcome things that I thought would be in the way forever, and we did by each other's side."

His thumb brushes against Sebastian's knuckles when he guides the ring onto Sebastian's finger.

"I promise to love you always, no matter what happens, and I will always thank you for your compassion and kindness. I love you now, wholeheartedly, unabashedly, and I've loved you from the very beginning, and I will love you until the very end."

Tears glisten in Sebastian's eyes and Ciel's breath hitches in his throat. He does not hear what the officiant says next, but his heart swells when Sebastian cups his face in his hands, large and warm, and kisses him for the first time, soft and tender, as his husband.

The crowd erupts into cheers, and they pull away with a soft laugh, squinting with happiness.

"We're married," Sebastian murmurs, fingers at the nape of Ciel's neck. "You're my husband now."

Ciel is really crying now, taking deep, ragged breaths as Sebastian kisses him breathless, quick little pecks that Ciel cannot count and will remember forever. "I love you," he says, voice a prayer, a promise, "I love, I love, I love you."

Sebastian lets out a loud whoop and scoops Ciel off his feet, one arm supporting his back, the other beneath his knees. "We're married!" he says again, nearly a shout, louder this time, and Ciel laughs, fingers curling against Sebastian's firm chest as he walks down the aisle, everyone else cheering, standing, clapping. They do not throw rice, no one throws a bouquet, or a garter, but the wedding is still fucking perfect, and Ciel cannot believe that he and Sebastian are  _married._

He is not thinking about Doll, who is long dead, or Lawrence, who is still sitting in the pew, whom Ciel will have to speak with later. 

He is only thinking of Sebastian, thinking of where they started, how far they have come, and how far they will continue to go.

Ciel has never been this happy before, and he knows, without a doubt, that with Sebastian by his side, their happiness will only grow together.


End file.
